Tainted But Beautiful
by Jander Panell
Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion... Zemyx, AkuZeku, AkuRoku, AxDem
1. Party

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_1. Party_

Pairings: Zemyx, AkuZeku, AkuRoku, AxDem (yeah, weird last one, but it just popped up...)

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it, okay?), noncon, graphic scenes, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Yeah, here's the vampire story I promised in my profile. It was a weird idea that started germinating in my head and I had to write it and...well, it's very odd. I think I wrote this all as a subtle dig towards _Twlight, _since I really...don't like those books. Anyway, yeah. Quite a few things just ended up "happening" during my writing of this story, not the least being the appearance of a strong...AxDem...vibe. Weird because I'd never even _considered _that as a pairing before but suddenly it's all over the place in this story, at least in the earlier chapters.

Hopefully you enjoy it, though.

* * *

_Rain everywhere drowning him a thick haze heavy drops choking him he dashes runs tries to scream but can't gather the breath--_

_Behind him; a monster. Snarling ugly panting blood dripping from its fangs claws extend--he runs he runs trying to escape but there is no escape because he's cornered at the roof...he stops and teeters, the ground spins sickeningly below him he can't move further and now it's a choice: He can either get killed by the monster behind him, or he can fall to his death._

_Only a second to decide. Only a second before the monster is on him--and he makes his choice. He tenses his legs his muscles burning adrenaline coursing through his veins but he already knows--just before he dies he struggles for the last remnants of his youthful prayers in those early days those days when he had a mother and they knelt quietly before the Virgin every night--the days before everything went to shit--but nothing comes to mind. Only numbness, singing empty and blank in his head._

_He bends his knees. Prepares to jump. But then--_

_A flash of red. A report from a pistol. And the monster falls, tumbles with a sickening crack on to the hard roof, into a puddle of slick black rain. He can only stare, his heart pounding a staccato, but then the red-haired youth--_boy, _really, barely older than _he _is--sheaths his pistol and strides across the roof in his direction, his steps ringing loud and confident._

_"Hi," says the red-haired boy and a smile is flashing in his brilliant green eyes. "That was a close call, wasn't it? Hey--why don't you come with me?"_

_He doesn't even have a chance to protest--and why would he _want _to? He simply jerks his head in a slow nod, and hesitantly accepts the other's hand. Accepts the new life he's being offered._

* * *

Years after that nightmarish experience, in a dark and rainy evening much like that _first _night, Demyx trudged home through the puddles in the back alleys of the city. He didn't mind, though--the softly drizzling rain would clean the blood off his coat, although he could do without the way it plastered his hair to his forehead. As it was the dead of the night no one else was out, save a mangy stray cat that darted instantly out of his way when he splashed through a puddle approaching it.

Demyx had always liked rain. To him, there was nothing more peaceful and serene than walking through a gentle drizzle, as he was now, the rain tinkling on the ground with a gentle rhythm. All was silent save the sound of the rain and Demyx's own labored breathing, labored from his long fight earlier today.

Usually, Demyx could count on a long walk through the rain to calm him down on a bad day, to drive out any miserable, lingering thoughts. But today even the eternal soft rhythm of the falling rain, the drops of cool wetness that brushed against his cheek, could do nothing to assuage his jumbled and uncertain thoughts. In particular, he kept flashing back to that fight, the battle between two lower-leveled vampires that had left him injured, bleeding from the shoulder, and taken almost all of his effort to finally defeat them. He couldn't shake off his memories of the fight, no more than he could shake off the steadily building pain in his shoulder, and like so many of his other fights he ran it through his head, remembering everything that he had done wrong, every small misstep...

More than anything Demyx couldn't dispel that nagging voice in his head that said, _He__ would have done it so much better._

And this voice in Demyx's head was entirely correct. To _him _those two vampires would have been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. _He _would have easily disposed of them with his usual casual grin and impleccable aplomb, not even breaking into a sweat as he effortlessly killed them. A darker part of Demyx sullenly thought that _he _might have even been able to dispose of the vampires with a flick of his wrist, but that was pure nonsense. Even _he _wasn't that good..._yet._

_He's still good enough to capture a _pureblood, _though, _thought that same dark and sullen voice. _Not like _me, _anyways._

The rain had intensified by the time Demyx reached his apartment, a nondescript old brown-brick building, crumbling walls tagged with bright and angry streaks of graffiti. It was the best he could afford, however. Not like _him, _who could easily afford a fancy villa in the nice part of town where he entertained others of the same high-society class. As befitted the scion of a powerful vampire slaying family.

Not like Demyx. Demyx, the child from the tenements, who could barely even remember his own family. This was the difference in their destinies, though it made Demyx sour to think the reason he wasn't as good as _him _was just because of class differences.

These thoughts were starting to depress him, and it was getting progressively colder, the rain coming down faster and more insistent. Demyx fumbled in his coat pockets for his house key, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his shoulder, and finally found it and turned the lock of his door. It swung open with a squealed protest from its hinges.

The inside of the house was a mess, but that was because Demyx couldn't afford a housekeeper and he didn't have time to clean it, anyways. He spent his days sleeping and his nights out prowling the streets, hunting for vampires. In a way, his lifestyle as a vampire slayer was similar to that of a vampire. Sleep during the day, hunt during the night, the only difference being _what _he was hunting for.

He was tired and dawn was coming soon, so he really should be getting to sleep. Still, there was the matter of the injury to attend to. Demyx threw his coat off with a single motion and flung it across the back of a rickety chair pushed in front of an equally rickety table that seemed ready to collapse any moment soon. Because of this reaosn Demyx didn't use the table much--he found the kitchen counter a more convenient place to put stuff and he never cooked at home anyways: he always ate fast food (an unhealthy habit that _he _did not much approve of, but who cared what _he _thought). So it came as a surprise when Demyx saw _something _lying on the dark, stained surface of the table--a small, pale-blue square of paper.

Curious, Demyx extended his good arm and picked up the paper. It seemed to be an envelope, of the kind that was actually a letter folded in an envelope shape. There was writing on it a script-like computer font but Demyx couldn't read it in the dark, so he had to walk across the room to pull on a string that created a small circle of thin, wavering, orange-ish light around him. The writing on the front appeared to be an address, of little interest to Demyx, so he opened it and began to read. The letter inside, betraying its fancy script-like font, was rather casual to the point of rudeness.

_Dems--_

_What's up? I would have sent you your invite earlier but I forgot where you lived and didn't find out until today. So sorry about the short notice!_

_Anyway, tomorrow night I'm hosting a party at my place. Address on the front of the letter. Got it memorized? I'm inviting the usual--you know, Xigbar, Marly, et cetera ad nauseum. But I thought _you _might want to come too, because for one thing it's been _ages _since I've last seen you and another thing...I'll be showing my pet to my guests. I'm sure it's an opportunity you _don't _want to miss out on..._

_See you there, if you decide to come. Or maybe you'll be too busy. If that's the case I understand. You _do _need to slay as many vampires as possible to rise in the ranks, don't you?_

_Sincerely_

_Axel_

"That son of a bitch," grumbled Demyx, shaking his head as he scanned through the letter the third time. "I see you're as condescending as _always, _Axel..."

But still, it _did _sound rather interesting. Demyx already knew--hell, _every _vampire hunter in the city already knew--that Axel had captured a pureblood vampire and made it his slave. And Demyx would be lying if he said he _wasn't _interested in seeing this new slave (or "pet"...) of Axel's. He had never, after all, been able to see a pureblood vampire before; they were a secretive lot who kept largely to themselves, and only the higher-level slayers like Axel ever got to hunt them.

And there was that injury, too...the injury he felt even now as a sharp and stabbing pain in his shoulder. There was no way he could go back to hunting the next night with an injury like that.

So it appeared he had no choice. Besides, more than seeing Axel's vampire pet, Demyx wanted to see _Axel _above all.

* * *

The party was a whirlwind of elegant flowing silk dresses and dinner jackets, of exotic scents and the clink of glasses and the low murmured hubbub of conversation. The women were beautiful and young, jewelry flashing at their throats; the men, handsome and square-jawed and impeccably clad in bow ties. It was all very nauseating to Demyx, who remained huddled in a corner, watching it all with an overwhelming feeling of disorientation.

Demyx didn't consider himself a wallflower--_au contraire, _he had a tendency for thinking of himself as the life of the party. But the parties _he _was used to were raucous affairs with girls and booze and karaoke and more often than not plenty of fighting and crime. He was at a complete loss for what to do _here, _amongst all of these rich perfumed upper-class people. All he could do was plaster himself to the wall, feeling very self-conscious in his rented tuxedo that was obviously somewhat shabbier than the rest of the men's elegant suits.

"Hey, you there!" Demyx looked up from where he'd been examining a spot--just the slightest stain--on the otherwise impeccable carpet. A girl had broken apart from the main group of chatting rich folks and was walking up to him. She wore a pastel blue dress and her hair was blonde and short and, oddly enough, had two protrusions that stuck out like antenna. Demyx had to resist the sudden bizarre urge to pull on her "antenna".

"Yeah?" said Demyx, frowning at her and wondering why _she _of all people was bothering to greet him.

"Who are you?" she said, regarding him for a moment, hands on her hips, head tilted. She was smiling, a sweet, vivacious smile that nonetheless somehow had a nasty, almost condescending feel to it. Demyx, having known Axel for quite some time, was no novice at discerning condescension, and it annoyed him to see that all-to-familiar look in _this _girl. "I've never seen _you _around before..."

"No, you haven't," agreed Demyx hastily. "I--I've never been to one of these parties before."

"Oh?" said the girl, still smiling at him in that sweet but condescending manner. "Hey, are you that one vampire slayer Axel was talking about...he said you were his student..."

"Yeah," said Demyx. "I was his student. My name's Demyx."

"A ha ha, _I _see!" said the girl with a little laugh and triumphant clap of her hands. "Well, isn't _that _marvelous. Don't worry, there are plenty of vampire slayers here tonight, so you're not alone." She made a wide sweeping gesture around the room with her arms.

Demyx peered at her intently. "Are _you _a vampire slayer?" he asked.

"Of _course _not!" said the girl with an impatient laugh. "Sorry, but _I _personally don't see the appeal of running around in the middle of the night killing violent bloodsuckers. Best leave that to suicidal people, you know!"

"I'm not suicidal," said Demyx, feeling somewhat annoyed at this girl, although he told himself his annoyance had no basis. Most non-slayers didn't understand, after all, what compelled vampire slayers to do their business. Demyx _himself _felt he didn't understand at times.

"Oh, pooh, of _course _you aren't," said the girl, still smiling, moving in to pat him on the shoulder. Demyx drew back, surprised by the sudden contact, which only prompted another laugh from her. He wondered why she was so easily amused.

"So you're _shy?" _she said, sounding infinitely amused. "Hey, hey, can I call you 'Demmykins'?"

"Huh? What?" said Demyx, caught off guard. "_What? _No--you can't! I mean, I don't even know _your _name."

"A ha ha ha ha!" The girl threw her head back and laughed again--a decidedly unladylike gesture from her. Demyx stared at her, his head swimming. "Ha ha ha. I'm Larxene. I'm a _friend _of Axel's."

There was something about the way she emphasized the word "_friend" _that disquieted Demyx greatly. However, he pushed the feeling down within him, reasoning that it was completely idiotic. Obviously, this Larxene was merely a high-society groupie of Axel's who admired him but that was it. Nothing more.

"I see," said Demyx since he couldn't think of anything better to say. Larxene laughed and then clapped him on the shoulder again, startling Demyx again. This merely prompted _another _laugh from Larxene. He vaguely wondered if she was drunk.

"_So-_o, Demmykins--" she had obviously elected not to follow his suggestion "--have you heard about that new..._treasure_...Axel's collected?"

"Yeah," said Demyx, straightening up a little, aware of the sudden note of seriousness that had entered the conversation. "Have you...I mean, you haven't seen it yet, have you?"

"Heavens, no," said Larxene with a little shake of her head. "From what I've heard Axel's been keeping it in the dungeons under the house--"

Trust _Axel _of all people to put a _dungeon _under a million dollar villa.

"--and prohibiting anyone from coming near it except him. He's gonna use this party to show it off to the entire world. At least that's what I've heard," said Larxene. And then, a little more pensively, "I wonder what it'll be like."

"You nervous?" said Demyx. Larxene shot him a foul look.

"No _way!" _she said, sounding scandalized. "I was just _wondering, _you know. I mean, I've never seen a pureblood vampire before. They're different from regular vampires, aren't they? They're _prettier, _right?"

"What?" said Demyx, drawing back and feeling quite startled at this sentiment of Larxene's--though he soon guessed he _shouldn't _be, given the popular media's teatmnet of pureblood vampires. Of _course _most teenage girls would be swooning all over the tall, dark, and handsome media image. "Yeah, maybe they _are _a bit more human-looking than the run-of-the-mill variety, but that just makes them more _dangerous. _They're equally as bloodthirsty--if not worse--than regular vampires. And they're sneakier than regular vampires by far--only the top slayers even _get _to see them. Some of the stronger ones can even withstand direct sunlight."

Demyx found himself enjoying being the one with the information--maybe he knew nothing about high society, but at the least he knew more about vampires than Larxene. She was watching him wide-eyed, drinking in every word he said. Obviously, despite her..."friendship"...with him, Axel had never told her the least bit about vampires. This realization made Demyx feel smug in the strangest way.

"Wow, that's _amazing," _said Larxene in a tone of unmistakable awe. "Hey, have _you _ever killed a pureblood vampire before?"

Larxene's innocent question pierced straight through Demyx's heart like an arrow, and he felt a curious combination of hot and cold sensations well up inside him--a cold sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach coupled with a rising heat in his face. He shook his head to clear it, and answer Larxene's query as well. "N...no. No."

_I haven't even _seen _one._

"Ah, well," said Larxene airily. "I _heard _you weren't very good, anyway..."

Demyx's stomach sank and his intestines writhed even more, and the heat in his face intensfied. "W-well it takes an _really _strong slayer--above and beyond, you know--to kill a pureblood. And even more to _capture _one..."

"Oh?" said Larxene disinterestedly. "I thought it was just about sex."

"What?" To his shame, his voice came out a squeak. Well, that was a _technical _way to put it, he thought grimly, but...

"At least that's what Axel said," continued Larxene with a shrug. "But is it true? Is _that _how you master a pureblood? You fuck it?"

"W...well _basically," _said Demyx, caught off guard by Larxene's very foul language. "But it's more than sexual, though. It's psychological...psychological domination." He was amazed he could even remember those big words from his school days. "That's how you master a pureblood. You dominate it completely. Physically, psychologically..."

"And in bed," cut in Larxene with a mad cackle.

"Yeah, that too," conceded Demyx. This Larxene girl seemed rather vulgar to him--he had thought, apparently mistakenly, that all rich people were graceful and elegant and certainly did not swear and talk about sex with the mad delight that _this _girl was doing. Well, _Axel _was vulgar to, but trying to imagine an un-vulgar Axel was like trying to imagine a forest without trees. It simply _couldn't _happen or the universe would implode in on itself.

Or something along those lines.

"I bet that's why _you _probably haven't been able to do it," continued Larxene with an almost fiendish delight. "I mean, no offense, but the thought of _you _dominating anything...it's just impossible, y'know? _I _certainly can't imagine you fucking a vampire."

"Neither can I," said Demyx, trying to ignore Larxene's slight--her insinuation that he was, well, weak and pathetic. And besides...he _knew _it was true. He had always been a weak slayer, average at best. Larxene was right--he would never be able to dominate a pureblood, much less fight against one evenly. _He _who had struggled so hard against two measly lower-ranked vampires? Unconsciously, he moved his hand over to his injured shoulder, which, despite the bandaging and painkillers, was starting to hurt again.

"Larxene!" A waft of a strong floral scent caught Demyx's attention, and he looked up to see a man approach himself and Larxene--and couldn't help but suppress the joy that leapt up in his stomach. A very small and snarky part of him thought, _I'm saved!_

"Marluxia!" he called.

"Oh--Demyx!" The man turned to face Demyx, surprise causing his blue eyes to widen, but then his face broke out in a smile. He was several years older than Demyx, and like every other man at the party, was clad in an elegant tuxedo--although _his _had a pink waistcoat and bright magenta bow tie. His hair, too, was pink and long and flowy. But Demyx didn't let the man's ridiculous appearance fool him. He knew that this was Marluxia--one of the world's stronger vampire slayers and a friendly rival of Axel's.

"Axel said you'd be here," said Demyx, approaching Marluxia and forgetting Larxene entirely. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I'm surprised to see _you _here," said Marluxia pleasantly. "Seeing as you've skipped out the last...ten or so parties. What brings you here today?"

"Hey, he never _invited _me the other times," said Demyx, feeling faintly miffed. He even folded his arms, though he knew how petulant the gesture would appear. He didn't much care, though; around Marluxia, even more than with Axel, he could be himself. "And besides..."

He'd been about to say something about Axel's new acquisition, but at that instant Larxene chose to butt in, grabbing Marluxia by the arm and turning him to face her. "Heeey! Why're you _ignoring _me, Marly?"

Demyx's first thought was, _I thought you were _Axel's _girlfriend!_

"Oh--? Forgive me, Larxene. I wasn't _trying _to ignore you, it just happens that I haven't spoken to Demyx for _such _a long time," explained Marluxia hastily. He didn't seem to mind that Larxene was still dangling off his arm and clutching it so tightly Demyx was sure she was leaving bruises. Not that Marluxia was registering any pain--he was just smiling blithe as ever at her.

Marluxia, Axel. They were all so.._.calm. _All the time, no matter what, through thick or thin, they were unflappable. Was that, Demyx wondered idly, what made them such good slayers? And would _he _ever attain that same peace of mind, that same tranquility?

He shook his head to banish these foolish thoughts, and in good time too, because Marluxia had started talking to him again.

"Or did you come here because of Axel's...little _surprise?"_

For a brief moment Demyx wondered just what the hell Marluxia was yammering about, but he suddenly removed and bobbed his head in a nod. "Yeah! I'm--I'm curious. I mean, I knew Axel was strong, but powerful enough to subdue a pureblood..."

"That's Axel for you!" said Larxene with a nefarious cackle. Demyx frowned at her, but the look Marluxia gave her was more amused--in a condescending way--than anything. And Demyx ought to know; years of hanging around Axel had taught him to recognize condescension _anywhere._

"He _is _strong," said Marluxia, addressing Demyx. "And ruthless as well, and hails from a renowned family. I wouldn't put it past him."

_Hails from a renowned family..._ Of course, Demyx thought dully. Nothing, in the end, mattered more than blood. Axel was the scion of a vampire-slaying family that had handed their skills down for generations; Demyx, just a vagrant whom Axel had decided to save on a whim. It made his blood boil to think of it this way, but it was _true. _Unconsciously, he clenched his hands into fists...funny, how he could usually depend so much on Marluxia to make him feel better when he was in a bad mood, but now _Marluxia _was the trigger of his bad mood.

Marluxia hadn't lost all of his perception, though, and he noticed Demyx's sudden rage. When he looked back at Demyx, his expression was concerned.

"Demyx, are you all right?" he said, tilting his head to examine Demyx further. "You seem to be...rather _troubled."_

"I'm fine, Marly," said Demyx with a heavy sigh. He decided he _was_--why trouble Marluxia with his own insecurities? If he sucked, that was _his _fault and his fault only. Not Marluxia's.

"Are you sure--" began Marluxia, but Larxene butted in rudely, yanking hard on Marluxia's arm to make him notice her.

"So this pureblood," she said, her voice loud and imperious. "_You _know anything about it, Marly? 'Course, I don't _think _you do, but--"

Marluxia opened his mouth to return Larxene's "favor" and interrupt her in turn, but was saved from committing this most ungracious act by the sound of the door opening. This wouldn't be surprising in of itself--guests had been coming to and from the room all day long--but the gradual hush that fell upon all of the chattering guests indicated that whoever had entered was _not _simply another guest. Slowly all conversation died down into a silence that Demyx practically _felt, _an oppressive heavy weight pressing down on everyone in the entire room. And he, along with Marluxia, and Larxene, and every other guest, turned their eyes to the door, to see--

Axel and his captured vampire.

_TBC_

* * *

Ha ha ha, leaving off on a cliffhanger...rather cruel, but what can you do? The next chapter, "Meeting", contains much Zemyx and AkuZeku goodness, so stick around. Here's a little teaser--

_Why not? I promise you, fool, that if I make you my servant, you will be able to have as much of me as you damn well please. How does that sound to you, hmm?" He leaned forward, moved his mouth upward, nipping roughly at the tip of Demyx's ear. Demyx, to his shame, whimpered at this gesture, prompting a low chuckle from Zexion. "You know you will like it, Demyx. You who says that I am 'pretty'...." Another nip, harder this time. It was fitting that Demyx's answer was an even more pathetic whimper._

Ah haaaa. All the steamy yaoi stuff is happening right off the bat! Anyway, I'll always try to keep at least one chapter ahead in my writing than when I update, so updates will come very sporadically.

Review por favor~


	2. Meeting

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_2. Meeting_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it, okay?), noncon, graphic scenes, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Yay, the second chapter is up relatively quickly, because I wrote the bulk of this quite some time ago. I've finished the third chapter but haven't started on the fourth, so expect a slower update here.

This chapter is _looong. _I hope I don't turn anyone off by the length...O_o It's just because it contains a lot of...stuff. Like, character interactions. Plenty of pairing goodness (the most I've ever written, I feel) ...and heeey, Zexy gets his big introduction! So we'll see how it goes.

* * *

The first thing Demyx saw was Axel, but that was because Axel had entered the room first. He stepped inside, entirely oblivious to the stricken hush that had fallen over his guests, or perhaps realizing it and reveling in it, one hand in his pants pocket, almost _sauntering _as he entered with a spring in his step. He was exactly as Demyx remembered him--tall, spiky red hair, green eyes shining with a hint of sardonic amusement, and that smirk, that ever-present, wide, superior smirk that he had often, so many times, cast upon Demyx.

But most of the guests weren't interested in Axel--not at all. They, after all, probably got to see him on a weekly basis. No, all of them were craning their necks for a glimpse of what was _behind _Demyx--the pureblood vampire he had captured and mastered. Demyx found it not hard to follow suit.

After Axel had fully entered, he turned around and swept his arm in an overly dramatic "after you" gesture (that was how Axel had always been--so needlessly dramatic). Demyx, however, wasn't fool enough not to see the gleaming silver cuff Axel had around his wrist, and from that cuff a silver chain that led to a matching cuff, around the thin pale wrist of--

--Axel's new acquisition. Demyx stared, wide-eyed, realizing that this was his first time _truly _seeing a pureblood vampire--and he was _surprised. _He had expected, well, something a little more Dracula-ish, with slicked-back black hair and red eyes and a mad cackle, clad in a long billowing black cape, but no, the only obviously vampiric things about the young man who had followed Axel were his pale-as-death skin and clawed fingers, and the hint of fangs protuding from his tightly shut mouth. He was shorter than Demyx and startingly thin, and sported an impressive shock of slate-colored hair that covered one eye. He kept his head down and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor, making it hard to see his face. Nor was there any sign of a billowing black cape--instead he was clad rather plainly, in a black turtleneck and matching slacks.

But above all...he was _beautiful. _It was strange that he was thinking this of a _vampire, _but Demyx couldn't help it--something about the vampire's pale, drawn features and the quietly dignified way he carried himself radiated a beauty that went beyond the physical, that seemed to be embedded in his very being. Well,Demyx _had _expected him to be alluring, given that he was a pureblood vampire. But he'd imagined "attractive" as in, well, "Dracula" attractive, the kind of foreign Russian-accented man who made women swoon in droves, or something that...sparkled. He _hadn't _been expecting this beautiful but also astoundingly young-looking _boy._

Both Axel and his vampire pet walked into the room, through the crowd which parted like the Red Sea before them. The guests could only stare and gawk silently, but Axel didn't seem to care about all the attention. He strode on cheerfully, smirking to himself at some private joke, while the vampire followed with his eyes on the floor, several paces behind Axel. Axel stopped, suddenly, seemingly annoyed at his vampire's slowness, and gave a jerk of his cuffed wrist that caused the vampire to stumble ahead somewhat and almost fall.

"Hey, hurry it up, you," said Axel, his voice unnaturally loud in the silence. The vampire lowered his head even more, but quickened the pace of his steps nonetheless. Axel's smirked widened exponentially.

Gradually, the hush that had fallen over the party-goers dissipated, and they descended into whispered flurries of conversations, that, as whispered conversations always went, rose in volume until they filled the room in a loud continuous hum, just like things had been before Axel had entered. This time, however, everyone was discussing only one thing--Axel's new pet. Many, too, had crowded around Axel and his pet, bursting with questions and many trying to get as close as possible, although Axel always made the guests keep a distance.

"Don't want to bother him, you know. All these loud noises," he said with a wide, disarming smile.

_And the lights, too, _thought Demyx, wondering exactly how Axel's new pet was tolerating the brightly lit room. He didn't seem to be taking it very well, with his head lowered and movements jerky and uncertain. Axel, however, appeared entirely ignorant to his vampire's discomfort--and Demyx realized that the brightness and noise of the room might have been a security measure, to keep the vampire under control. _That's Axel for you, _he thought. _He's one clever son of a bitch._

"Wow, he looks a lot more human than I thought he would," Larxene was saying beside Demyx, engaged in an animated conversation with Marluxia. "I was expecting something, you know, a bit more like Dracula, or--"

"Now, now," said Marluxia with a smile. "Can you imagine even _Axel _topping Dracula or Edward Cullen?"

Larxene paused to ponder this point for a point. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a careless shrug.

Demyx couldn't care less about Marluxia and Larxene's inane discussions, however. He slowly moved away from them, unconscious of all of the fluttering party goers in their dresses and rich scents, to push through the crowd straight toward Axel and his vampire. A few people unleashed loud objections as Demyx rudely pushed past them, but he couldn't care less.

Axel had by this point noticed Demyx, and he broke out of conversation with a scarred man with an eyepatch, to turn and cast a gaze directly in Demyx's direction. Demyx's stopped dead in his tracks at this sudden acknowledgment from Axel, startled by the intensity of Axel's green-eyed stare, but more than that, startled at the _familiarity _of it all. It had been so long--_years_--since he'd last seen Axel, but almost nothing had changed. Axel's smirk was still as confidently assured as Demyx remembered, and the near-maniacal amusemet shining in his eyes was almost painfully familiar to Demyx. He stood still, and waited silently for Axel to approach him.

"So I see you took up on my invitation, Dems," said Axel, still smirking as he came to a stop in front of Demyx. "That's very kind of you."

"Yeah, well, after being snubbed for what, three years--" began Demyx.

"A-hem, make that _two. _Two and a half," said Axel with a casual wave of his hand. "Glad to see you again, though."

"Same here," said Demyx. "You...you've really gotten quite accomplished, haven't you?" He cast a glance behind Axel, at the beautiful slate-haired vampire who was still staring intently at the floor. Axel laughed.

"Oh, yeah, that..." he said with a shake of his head. "He was hell to get, all right, but it was worth it in the end. It was all worth it. Wasn't it, my pretty pet?" With that, he gave a sharp jerk on the cuff. Axel's pet jerked in response, and looked up, ever-so-slightly, but enough for Demyx to see that his eyes (well, at least his one visible eye) were a deep shade of blue. Demyx's gaze then traveled to the silver cuff around the vampire's thin wrist. The wrist beneath the cuff appeared an unsettling burned red shade, in stark contrast to the vampire's stark deathly paleness.

"Silver, right?" said Demyx. Axel's eyes followed Demyx's, and then he threw his head back and laughed.

"You don't miss a thing, pupil," he said with a grin.

"Hey, I stopped being your pupil, what, _two and a half _years ago," said Demyx, somewhat annoyed. _There's that condescension again..._

"Of course," said Axel, although his grin stayed as superiorly condescending as always. "How time flies. Sometimes, it's hard to forget...anyway. You'reright. It _is _silver." He gave a jerk at the cuff again, causing a little gasp from the vampire. It was the first time Demyx had heard the vampire so much as make a single noise. "Hurts, doesn't it? But be glad I'm being this lenient with you. You _know _I could do worse..._much _worse."

Something about the low, almost insidious tone Axel was taking with the vampire bothered Demyx greatly...although many things about Axel happened to bother Demyx greatly. Demyx really didn't want to linger long on the "much worse" things that Axel could do to the vampire...had probably _done _to the vampire. Again, he remembered the way to master a pureblood, and gave a slight shudder.

"How'd you get him, Axel?" he found himself asking. He was aware that a little crowd had surrounded the two of them, intrigued now--Demyx doubted that many of the guests had even _noticed _him before. "I mean, I've known for a while that you'd gotten a pureblood, but how'd you _do _it?"

"Ahh," said Axel, scratching his head. "The inevitable question."

"Quit playing games," said Demyx, somewhat annoyed. A nasty part of him--that dark sullen part of him--wondered just why he wanted to know in the first place, since he'd never get good enough to subdue a pureblood anyway. Like he did every time, Demyx forced this part of him to shut up and go hide and fester in the darkest most unexplored corners of his mind.

"Don't you have any patience, Dems?" said Axel, though he didn't sound irritated, just amused. He tugged on the vampire's chain again, causing the vampire to stumble slightly, though he caught himself before he fell. "Hey, how about this. _You _tell him, why don't you. Go on ahead. Don't be so shy, especially since you usually spend your every waking moment cursing at me. What's with this sudden silence, huh, boy?"

The vampire did nothing in acknowledgment to this. Demyx suddenly felt very uncomfortable--he could feel the eyes of all the guests on him, Axel, and the vampire now, could practically _hear _their ears prickle in anticipation. Most, Demyx realized, probably also wanted to know the raw details of how Axel had acquired his vampire.

"Don't want to talk?" said Axel, frowning a little. He snaked out a hand to catch the vampire by the chin and force his face up so that he and Axel were eye to eye. Demyx noticed, with a strange unpleasant feeling, that Axel had a quantity of shining silver rings on his hand. It didn't take a genius to guess what those rings were for.

"Don't want to talk?" said Axel again. "Well, you little monster? I went through _all _that trouble to capture you--I could've just _killed _you, you know, woulda been easier for me--and you repay me by not obeying? Oh, well..." He removed his hand from the vampire's chin, and the vampire immediately looked back down again. Axel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before turning back to Demyx with a helpless shrug.

"It's okay," said Demyx, wondering just what the vampire would have said in the first place, anyway. "I just wanna know."

"Well, there's no much to say," said Axel with another shrug. "It wasn't too hard, actually. Little bitch himself made it easy. Do you know, _he _sought me out! Just crept into my window one night, crawled into my bed, and tried to seduce me. Ha! As if _that _would ever work out. I made short work of him, as you can see." With that, he threw his head back and let out a laugh, several short, sharp, and harsh-sounding barks. Demyx shuddered again--something about that laugh implied that it really _hadn't _been as easy as Axel had said...

"He tried to sleep with you?" said Demyx, catching on to the first part of the story.

"Incubus," said Axel simply, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "Even _you _should remember, Dems."

"Yeah, I _do," _said Demyx impatiently. There was Axel again, leaking condescension in a thick puddle everywhere he went. Of _course _Demyx would remember his school lessons--hadn't he giggled uncontrollably throughout the entire lesson on incubi and succubi (he supposed it was partly Axel's fault, trying to teach Demyx at _eleven _what the "nightmare demon" vampires were like)?

"Ha ha ha," was all Axel said in response, and he ran a hand through his vampire's silken hair. The vampire turned away from Axel and lowered his gaze even more, if possible.

The other guests had started talking now that Demyx had fallen silent, and Axel had his attention diverted by them for a moment. He entertained them easily, with the experience of having done this too many times to count. And he _had, _since it seemed, to Demyx at the very least, that Axel tended to hold a party every other week.

"Why'd ya bother capturing it 'stead of killing it?" said the eyepatch man, glancing at the vampire who had become immersed with the carpeting again. "Seems like an awful pain, doesn't it, dude?"

"What? Wouldn't _you?" _said Axel with a disarming smile. "Admit it, Xig. He's _quite _the specimen, isn't he?" He pushed the vampire forward (the vampire actually let out a surprised little gasp) into the man's face, whom Demyx recognized now as Xigbar, a former slayer turned weapons manufacturer after a nasty run-in with several Egyptian vampires. Xigbar had occasionally come to visit Axel and Demyx during their school days, though he'd always paid much more attention to _Axel _than _Demyx, _for obvious reasons.

"Well, I guess," said Xigbar with a shrug, "but he ain't my type, you know?"

After that, Axel and Xigbar fell into a long and animated conversation about the kind of girls they liked, with Axel heavily implying he didn't like girls at all and Xigbar implying that he lived for the swimsuit issues of _Sports Illustrated._ Demyx, bored, drifted away, with half a mind to find more fruit punch. He could have _sworn _that he'd seen a punch bowl somewhere amidst the carousing party-goers...

* * *

As the novelty of Axel's new acquisition faded, the guests began to drift away from Axel and his vampire and dispersed across the room in conversing groups that became progressively less and less sober as the party wore on. Demyx himself hadn't drank anything since the party had started, mostly because he was underage and also because he abhorred alcohol. It was something that came with the trade--vampire slayers needed all their wits about them. Although that didn't explain why half of the drunk party-goers seemed to be vampire slayers...

The atmosphere in the room was beginning to become stuffy and overbearing to Demyx. He decided, however, that the final straw was Larxene bounding up to him and demanding a dance with all too much eagerness and obviously too much alcohol. Over her whined protests he rebuffed her, and headed aimlessly out the door, through the empty hall, down the stairs, and outside in the villa's expansive courtyard.

The night was refreshingly cool after the stuffy heat of the house, made even more refreshing after Demyx unwound his bow tie and undid the top few buttons of his shirt. He looked up to the sky, a midnight blue sky sprinkled with shining white stars. There was no moon out, casting the courtyard in harsh contrasts between the dark shadows of the moonless night and the pools of golden light from the lamps placed strategically around the yard. Demyx looked around--the courtyard was wide and the floor was paved elegantly in flagstone. Elegant vines snaked up stone statues of naked women and fat cherubim. Aside from the distant sounds of revelry from the house, the only sound was the gentle tinkling of the many fountains in the courtyard.

For a moment, Demyx thought that he was alone, the only person out to enjoy the cool darkness of the night. However, his attention was diverted by a figure sitting on a bench in front of a rectangular, perfectly still pool. The figure was in shadow, but Demyx could make out enough to see that it was rather thin and small, with a shock of hair covering one side of the face...

Slowly, barely breathing, Demyx approached the figure on the bench. He was within a few feet of the bench when the person suddenly turned around, dispelling all doubt--it was Axel's vampire. And Axel was nowhere in sight.

"Uh...hello," said Demyx, after his mind began working again. All he could do was stare, feeling somewhat ashamed for some reason, but also feeling a faint terror churning in the pit of his stomach. Just what the hell was_ Axel's vampire _doing all on his lonesome, sitting in the middle of the courtyard without any supervision? There was something more than a little bothersome in this situation, even if the vampire hadn't done anything suspicious yet. In fact, he was just sitting there watching Demyx with a faintly bored look on his pale face.

_Don't be stupid, Demyx, you can definitely control this situation, _Demyx told himself angrily. _You're a goddamn _vampire slayer, _have you forgotten what that means? _Still, that didn't dispel the fact that this was a _pureblood _vampire and Demyx had never faced anything like one before. Besides, Demyx didn't have any of his weapons on him, and he knew that in spite of the vampire's frail appearance that he probably wouldn't be able to best the vampire in a physical fight.

"Hello," said the vampire. Demyx took a step back, surprised--it was the first time he'd ever heard Axel's vamprie speak. Although Demyx had long dispelled his "Dracula" (and "Cullen") expectations, he was still caught off guard by this vampire's voice. There was no hint of a Transylvanian accent and, even more surprising, absolutely no insidiousness to the vampire's voice either. It was a soft voice, a quiet voice that matched exactly what the vampire appeared to be--an introverted teenage boy.

"Uh...yeah...uh...why're you out here?" said Demyx awkwardly, slipping his hands into his pockets. He felt more than a little strange--a _vampire slayer, _having a friendly conversation with a _vampire? _It went against everything that Demyx had been taught (by that bastard _Axel, _too...) You didn't casually converse with vampires. You _killed _them.

Although Demyx suspected that Axel would be none-too-happy if he killed Axel's precious little "pet".

The vampire regarded Demyx for a long, long time with his exposed dark eye. His expression was unreadable but (or maybe it was just Demyx's overactive imagination) he seemed almost bored. Demyx suddenly felt like he'd interrupted something, something he should not have been intruding on--but _what? _All Axel's vampire had been doing was sitting outside on a bench staring into the dark flat pool.

"What do you think?" said the vampire with a faint sneer to his voice. "It was getting too bright for me in that house. So _he _allowed me to leave."

"And _he _didn't leave?" said Demyx, finding it not hard to refer to Axel as a heavily emphasized _he, _like the vampire was doing. Demyx had done that often enough in his head to have become used to it.

"Why should he?" said the vampire, turning back around. Demyx foolishly noticed that the vampire had crossed his legs, like a woman. "_He _is having far too much fun entertaining all his silly 'friends'. At the very least _he _is not exhibiting me around like a mere...a mere _pet." _He spat in distate at the ground with the last word.

"Yeah, but...wouldn't you, you know, try escaping?" said Demyx. The vampire turned to give Demyx another unreadable look.

"Do not be foolish. _He _is not an idiot. He has taken, ah...appropriate precautions." With those words, the vampire lifted his thin wrist to indicate the silver cuff still locked around his wrist, chain danging limply from it. "I cannot run."

"Uh...okay," said Demyx, although he didn't see the use of the cuff if it wasn't bound to anything else. But it was probably warded in other ways, ways that prevented the vampire's escape...

Demyx stood there for some time, hands in his pockets, shuffling anxiously from side to side and never breaking his gaze from the vampire. The vampire appeared entirely disinterested in Demyx's presence, and continued to gaze into the dark still waters of the pool. They remained like this for some time, neither talking, until the vampire broke the silence.

"What are you doing?" he said, turning around ever-so-slightly. "Go back inside."

"No thanks," replied Demyx, and before he knew what he was doing he took a step, and another, and another...until he was right next to the stone bench. The vampire stared at him with a surprised look that mirrored the surprise raging inside Demyx. Just _what _was he doing, approaching a vampire like this? He _should _follow the vampire's suggestion, but no...sure the vampire had that probably-warded cuff, but all the same, it never hurt to be too cautious.

And besides, there was something..._something _else, about the vampire's intent dark-blue-eyed stare, something beyond the bored irritation currently flashing in those eyes...a sort of depth that intrigued Demyx. There was a story in that eye, and (Demyx cast a glance at the red burn ring around the vampire's wrist) not a happy story either. The nasty dark sullen part of Demyx wondered why he was feeling sorry for a _vampire, _but like always Demyx told this part of him to shut the hell up, he could do as he damn well pleased, and with that settled he took a seat beside the very surprised slate-haired vampire.

"I hope you don't mind," said Demyx, casting the vampire his best cheerful grin. "Just thought I'd make _sure _you wouldn't run away."

"You are a fool," was the vampire's one response, and he turned away brusquely. Demyx sighed.

He was sitting on the far opposite side of the vampire, as he didn't want to get _too _close. This _was _a pureblood vampire after all, and despite Axel having said it was low-ranking Demyx still didn't want to take any chances...and he still doubted his ability to fight it. Sitting far from it would enable him to get up quicker and escape it, and sound the alarm to the other party-goers, who would surely be more skilled slayers than he...

_You're being a coward, you idiot, _Demyx told himself angrily. Besides, it didn't appear that the vampire was going to be doing anything. He was still sitting with his legs crossed and his head bowed, examining his clawed fingers with an almost polite disinterest. Demyx heaved a heavy sigh--it appeared Axel's vampire wasn't one for conversation. Although why he'd try to hold a conversation with a vampire in the first place was beyond him.

"Who are you again?" said the vampire, breaking the silence again. He turned to cast Demyx another glance, this one a little more interested than his previous one. Demyx was suddenly foolishly aware of how much taller and well-built he was than the thin and pale vampire, although that probably wouldn't make much of a difference in a fight. "You are a slayer, correct? But not a strong one."

Demyx ignored the slight. "Yeah, I'm a slayer," he said.

"Aren't you _his _student?" continued the vampire, still watching him with what was almost interest. "Your name is, I forget, Daniel or something along those lines."

"Demyx," said Demyx, feeling slightly stung at the vampire's mangling of his name, although he shouldn't be _too _upset. For some reason or the other whenever people mangled his name, they invariably chose to mangle it as "Daniel". Why, Demyx hadn't a clue. "My name is Demyx."

"Ahh. I figured it was something silly like that," said the vampire with a shrug of his thin shoulder. He turned away from Demyx again, and looked back down into the pool. Demyx looked into the pool as well, seeing his reflection--but not the vampire's. He wasn't surprised, although it _was _rather disquieting.

"What's _your _name?" said Demyx, and right after he asked it, he regretted it. _Who cares? _that sullen voice said, and for once Demyx agreed with it. Damn it, it was just a _vampire. _He didn't need to know its name. They were all just bloodthirsty monsters out to kill all humans and drink their blood. They had no names and if they did, the names didn't mean a thing. _They were monsters._

The vampire seemed to be of the same opinion. He jerked, looking almost startled, but quickly composed himself, his expression returning back to perfect flat neutrality. "Why do you need to know? There is no need for a killer to know the names of his victims, is there?"

"I'm not a killer," said Demyx, feeling annoyed. Killers killed _people, _like Jack the Ripper and Hannibal Lecter and so on. He _slew _vampires. There was a difference, a major one. "And I just wanted to know...that's all."

"It is not important, anyway," said the vampire, gazing down at his non-reflection in the pool. "You may address me as 'pet' or 'monster' as _he _does, if you address me at all."

Demyx winced. Somehow, it felt _wrong. _The thing talked, for Heaven's sake. It talked and obviously had conscious thoughts (probably more thoughts than _Demyx _did!). To call it a "pet" or "monster" just seemed wrong on an innate level...despite the fact that the thing _was _a monster. And it _was _Axel's pet. Still...Demyx had too much experience with vampires as brutal, bloodthirsty pasty-faced beasts, as the lower echelons inevitably were. But _this _vampire appeared little more than a skinny pale youth who happened to have fangs and claws. And an aversion to silver and sunlight, and no reflection...

But it still seemed more _human _than vampire. It was nothing like a lower-level vampire and it was even less like Demyx's preconceived image of the stereotypical pureblood vampire.. He _couldn't _call the thing--the _boy_--"pet" or "monster"; that would be too demeaning. Regardless of what it _really _was.

"But I want to know," he said lamely.

"You are quite stupid," sighed the vampire with a shake of his slate-blue head. "Very well, then. If you are _so _desperate to address me, then you may address me as 'Zexion'."

"'Zexion'." Demyx tried the name out--it wasn't a bad name at all, actually. It certainly wasn't _his _idea of a pureblood vampire's name but what did _he _know about vampire names besides "Dracula" and "Lestat" and "Edward"? Something about the way "Zexion" had said the name piqued Demyx's interest, though, and Demyx had to ask. "'Zexion'...is that your real name?"

"No." Zexion's answer was brief and matter of fact. "But it is good enough for _you."_

Demyx shrugged, sensing he wasn't going to get any more answers out of Zexion. He searched for something else to say--the silence felt strange, unnatural--and finally decided on, "Do you like it here?"

The instant he said it he regretted it. Of _course _Zexion didn't like it here. He was being imprisoned and tortured with silver and light. The answer to Demyx's idiotic query was so blindingly obvious that it made Demyx feel nauseous to think that _he _had asked that stupid question.

Zexion thought the question was stupid too, for he turned brusquely away and said, "What do you _think, _you idiot?"

"N-no...uh, I'm sorry," said Demyx, feeling genuinely abashed "I really, truly am, I'm sorry."

Zexion's only response was a brief and cruel laugh. Demyx jerked in surprise, since he hadn't heard anything _close _to amusement from Zexion until now. Zexion's laugh died away as quickly as it had came, however, and he turned to Demyx with a little smirk that made his fangs all too much visible. For the first time Demyx realized, with a shudder, exactly _what _he was dealing with...

"You do not have to waste your apologies on me," said Zexion. "How a fool like _you _became a slayer...they must have lowered their standards quite a bit."

Demyx decided to live and let live and ignore Zexion's very blatant insult. He instead settled for sitting stolidly on the bench, watching his reflection and then, when he became bored at his narcissism, looking up and watching Zexion. Zexion didn't seem to mind or notice, as he was now staring off into space rather than at his non-reflection, legs crossed, hands folded demurely in his lap.

_He's really quite pretty, _thought Demyx inanely, just as he had earlier that night. But it _was _true. Zexion, for all his unhealthy thinness and deathly pallor, was quite a good-looking young man. Not in a Dracula seductive way, either, but in a way that Demyx could only describe as "beautiful", like a girl. A beauty that was almost _innocence, _although Demyx knew that Zexion couldn't be as innocent as he looked, since he had been "mastered" by Axel...and made his living seducing girls (or men? Maybe he was an incubus who went after those of the male persuasion) and planting nightmares in their heads.

And then, unknowing, too caught up in his observations of Zexion to notice, Demyx committed an immensely foolish action that, later in life when he was old and in Depends, he would _still _curse himself for when he thought back on it.

"You...you know, Zexion, you're really, _really _pretty."

It took Demyx a fraction of a second to realize, mortified, just _who _had uttered those words in that all-too-familiar loud voice. He felt the same horrific mixture of sensations he had felt back when Larxene had asked him about his (lack of) pureblood kills--the wrenching cold twisting his stomach, the blazing heat flushing his face--only magnified at least ten time. He couldn't t breathe--the combating sensations of cold and heat were constricting his throat and making it impossible for him to draw air. All he could do was sit while his insides squirmed and clenched and froze and blood rushed to his face. It was bad enough having said something like that to a person he'd known for less than two hours. It was even _worse _saying that to a _vampire--_an _incubus_--he'd known for less than two hours.

At this point Demyx's only real coherent thought was: _Okay, God, Vishnu, Flying Spaghetti Monster, whatever's out there, please smite me down now._

Zexion, conversely, didn't seem to have reacted much at all. Oh, he had turned, all right, when Demyx had spoken those horrid words, whipped around so violently that Demyx thought he could _hear _Zexion's neck crack, but now he was just regarding Demyx with an expression of vague interest through a half-closed blue eye. It was all very disconcerting to Demyx and it just made Demyx feel worse. He squirmed under Zexion's scrutiny.

And then, slowly, a smile--a thin, triumphant, _insidious_ smile--cut its way across Zexion's face, revealing his fangs, and an all too familiar sadistically amused light came to his eyes...a light that Demyx was far too used to seeing in _Axel's _eyes. Seeing such a familiar expression on a total stranger's face disconcerted Demyx more than anything else that had happened that night. Disconcerted him so much, in fact, that he didn't notice that Zexion had moved closer, until he felt Zexion's breath tickle his neck.

"Hey! Whoa!" choked out Demyx when he saw that Zexion was kneeling on the bench, his face only inches from Demyx's neck...where the vein leaped and twitched in double time. "H-hey!"

"So..." said Zexion, his voice low and controlled, but ringing with a sort of wild delight as well. It was such a discrepency from his usual flat, brisk, business-like tone that for a moment Demyx wasn't even sure that it _was _Zexion speaking, but it had to be, his mouth was moving and the words were definitely coming from him. "So...you think I'm _pretty, _hmmm?"

"Ah--um--get away--get _away--!" _squeaked Demyx, ashamed at how high his voice sounded now that it was twisted from terror. His heart thudded against his ribcage causing the vein on his neck to leap even more--the vein that was now mere inches away from Zexion's fangs. "Get _away, _you--!"

"Answer my question, _Demyx," _whispered Zexion, his tone seductive. Demyx let out another squeak when Zexion's hand rose to cup Demyx's cheek, not with force, but with a deliberate gentleness that was even worse. He pressed a claw, with that same gentleness, into the skin, and Demyx almost leaped off the bench. He was aware that Zexion was practically in his lap now, aware that all Zexion had to do was lower his head and he'd be able to suck all of Demyx's life out of him.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, _thought Demyx furiously. A vampire slayer did _not _get into this situation. Compromised, weapons-less, about to get eaten by a vampire. No self-respecting slayer did...but since when had Demyx ever been a self-respecting vampire slayer? He was a loser, a pathetic idiot, and nothing said it better than this current situation--the current situation that was all _his _fault.

"I asked you a _question, _Demyx," whispered Zexion, and to Demyx's surprise his mouth had moved up, to carress Demyx's ear with a rough but sensual motion. Demyx winced when he felt Zexion's fangs scrape against the earlobe and when Zexion sank his claws even further into the skin of Demyx's cheek. "You think I am _pretty, _do you not? You think I am _attractive."_

"Ahh--well, _maybe_--" gasped Demyx, trying to pull away, but that was impossible when Zexion was sitting on Demyx's lap. "Look--get off me--pretty please--"

So _that _was the true measure of his patheticness. Never before had Demyx thought that there would _ever _be a day in his career where he would have to say _"pretty please" _to a _vampire._

"Ahh...you are a fool," sighed Zexion. "But at the very least you are an _honest _fool. How would you like to be my _servant, _fool?"

"_What?" _Demyx's voice came high and thin and strained from terror. He knew what Zexion was talking about--what Zexion was suggesting. So the vampire _wasn't _trying to drink him, but even worse--turn _him _into a vampire. And he wouldn't even have the privilege of becoming a self-aware pureblood like Zexion. No, _Demyx _would end up being nothing more than a menial low-ranked monster, a _made _vampire, existing only to do the bidding of some higher pureblood lord--in this case, Zexion.

"No--no--_no_--I think you've got the wrong idea buddy--" Strike two. Not a good idea to call a vampire who's sitting on your lap about to make you his servant _"buddy"._

"Why not? I promise you, fool, that if I make you my servant, you will be able to have as much of me as you damn well _please. _How does _that _sound to you, hmm?" He leaned forward, moved his mouth upward, nipping roughly at the tip of Demyx's ear. Demyx, to his shame, whimpered at this gesture, prompting a low chuckle from Zexion. "You _know _you will like it, Demyx. You who says that I am 'pretty'...." Another nip, harder this time. It was fitting that Demyx's answer was an even more pathetic whimper.

"I don't know what you're _talking _about now get the hell _off _of me." Demyx tried pushing, but Zexion just wouldn't budge, belying his thin and frail appearance. But he _was _a vampire after all...a vampire who was simultaneously seducing Demyx and trying to make him. It was enough to make Demyx sick--sick at _himself, _mostly, for getting in this situation in the first place.

"I enjoy victims who struggle," said Zexion in a low murmur. "Don't struggle _too _much, however, or I'll be forced to call on my powers. And we can't have that, can we? Now stay still and let me drink your blood. It won't hurt a _bit_."

For the first time, a ray of logic shone its way out of the animal terror fogging Demyx's mind, and he seized--desperately, hungrily--on to the one small opening that Zexion had revealed. _I'll be forced to call on my powers...we can't have that, can we? _Zexion didn't want to use his powers. But why? Why? Because...Demyx's eyes flickered to the silver cuff still around Zexion's wrist. Because of _that. _Obviously Axel had warded it to either prevent Zexion from using his powers, or, more likely (since it took less effort) send a warning to Axel whenever Zexion used his powers.

It wasn't much of an advantage, but it was a start.

Strange how the edge of death--or in this case, the imminent end of existence as a conscious, sentient, _non_-blood-sucking being--could bring such clarity of thought. Whereas before Demyx had been terrified out of his wits and unable to think properly, he soon found that all of the fear had vanished, replaced only by a cold, hard resolve. Somehow, _somehow, _he had to get Zexion to use his powers. He had to struggle. That was right, he had to struggle for all his life until Zexion had no choice but to start summoning bats and shapeshifting.

Or, he could just scream for help.

The second idea was far more preferable to the first and Demyx wondered why he hadn't even thought of it in the first place. Probably because he'd been too scared. Ignoring Zexion's (rather meager) weight on his lap, ignoring Zexion's mouth now resting directly on his vein, Demyx sucked in the deepest breath he'd ever taken and prepared to unleash it in a wild burst of extremely undignified screams for help.

But in the end, he was spared even _that _effort, because just before Zexion bit down, an all-too-familiar voice, but _unfamiliar _because Demyx was used to hearing it sardonic and good-natured, not cold and twisted with rage and hatred as it was now, said, "_Just what the HELL do you think you're doing?"  
_

Demyx turned around so fast he almost twisted his neck--but he didn't need to look to see that it was Axel, jacket open and tie undone much like Demyx, striding across the courtyard at a breakneck pace, the most frightening expression Demyx had _ever _seen blazing on his face. Years later, the memory of Axel's fury--of the rage etched on Axel's handsome face, twisting it into an ugly mask of fury--would continue to haunt him, would perhaps be his most vivid recollection of the entire experience.

Zexion reacted instantly, flinging himself away from Demyx with such speed that it took Demyx a second to realize that there was no one on his lap prepared to suck the blood out of him, that said bloodsucker had hurled himself to the far edge of the bench, as far away from Demyx as possible. Demyx turned to look at Zexion, heart still hammering a mad staccato at his bare recovery from his near-death experience, and then his heart _stopped. _

Before, Zexion been so powerful and in command, a superior and seductive smirk on his face. Now, his expression had dissolved into one that Demyx could describe only as _terror. _He was trembling, throat convulsing and lips moving soundlessly in a terrified attempt to explain himself, but it was clear that Axel, drawing ever closer, would not even allow him the privilege of _that._

"P--please--_please_--" stammered Zexion when he had found his voice. The tone of his voice--beseeching, terrified, almost _sobbing_--astonished Demyx more than anything else that had happened that night. It was such a massive change from the low and seductive tone he'd been taking only a few seconds earlier with Demyx that Demyx's head was practically _reeling _from the dissonance of it all. He could only watch, numbly, as Axel advanced on Zexion, step after stormy step.

"Please _what?" _snarled Axel, his tone feral, stopping right before Zexion. "Please _what, _monster?"

"Ahh--p-please--_Master_--this isn't--what it looks--"

"I know _exactly _what you were doing," said Axel. "Don't try that stupid excuse with me. Stand up!"

Zexion shot up to perfect attention in less than a second. The more sardonic part of Demyx was surprised to see that he hadn't saluted. Most of Demyx, however, wasn't feeling very sardonic, and he could only watch in cold horror as Axel drew his hand back and slapped Zexion hard across the face, causing Zexion to tumble hard to the ground with a sickening thud.

"H-hey--" stammered Demyx when he somehow found it in him to speak. Neither Axel nor Zexion acknowledged him, however. Axel had snatched Zexion roughly by the elbow and hauled him back up to his feet. Zexion was trembling so violently he could barely stand, and Demyx could see the burn marks on his face from where Axel's rings had connected.

"_Bitch," _said Axel in a low, ferocious whisper. "You do _not _attack one of my guests, do you _understand? _If it was just anyguest I'd be angry enough to throttle you. But _that guy _isn't just _any _guest you've threatened." He jerked a thumb in Demyx's direction. "Do _you _know who he is?"

Zexion shot a brief, hysterical look in Demyx's direction. Demyx felt his insides squirm when he saw the look, but could do nothing about it. "H-h-hi-his n-n-n-name i-is D-D-Demyx," stammered Zexion.

"Ooh, _someone's _been doing his homework," said Axel sarcastically. Zexion flinched as if he'd been struck. "Yeah, his name is Demyx. But more than that--_he's my student. _Well, _was, _but that doesn't make a difference. The point is, he's the last person out of _everyone _here you should have chosen to threaten. Not that you could have gotten away with threatening anyone else, but you get my point. _Don't you, monster?"_

With that he took Zexion by the shoulder and gave him a hard shake. Zexion nodded violently, fear causing his voice to shake as much as his body. "Y-y-yes M-Master."

"Good," said Axel simply, although he didn't sound very satisfied. "Now hurry up and come along, bitch. I hate to cancel a party early--you wouldn't believe it--but right now your discipline is what's most important."

"Huh? Wait--Axel--what're you going to do?" shouted Demyx when he managed to regain his wits. Axel had grabbed Zexion roughly by the wrist and begun to drag the vampire after him, who took stumbling lurching steps to catch up with Axel's longer strides. "Axel! Hey! Wait!"

"What do you _think, _Dems?" said Axel, turning around, a hint of irritation to his voice. "I'm punishing the monster for his misbehavior, obviously. He'll soon learn that he can't eat whatever guests he likes."

"He wasn't trying to eat me," protested Demyx inanely...although that didn't mean much as Zexion had been trying to do something much _worse. _

"Who cares?" scoffed Axel. "Don't tell _me _you're sticking up for a fucking _vampire. _Who _attacked _you, by the way."

Disapproval emanated Axel's voice, a disapproval that was highly familiar to Demyx--it was a teacher's disapproval in his student. Demyx sighed and conceded that Axel had a valid point. Nonetheless...he couldn't wrap his mind around the sheer _ferocity _of Axel's fury. As touched as he was by Axel's concern for him, he also felt that much of Axel's anger had nothing to do with _Demyx, _and everything to do with...something else, something Demyx couldn't quite understand. And there was Zexion. Sure, he was a vampire who had tried to turn Demyx into one of his fellows, but all the same, Demyx couldn't help the squirm of pity that coursed through his insides when he saw how terrified Zexion was, to the point where he was trembling so badly he couldn't even stand. It was more than apparent that Axel had done some horrific things to the vampire if he was so damn _scared_ of Axel.

"Axel--" he began.

"Shut up, Demyx, and go home. Enjoy the rest of your evening watching porn or whatever," cut in Axel, his voice still rough and feral. He was dragging Zexion behind him so quickly that Zexion almost fell at times. Axel displayed no sympathy when that happened, only hauling Zexion back up with a rough jerk on the arm.

"Huh--? _Porn?" _Demyx let out a choked cry of shock, but was too startled to move after Axel. He could only watch as Axel disappeared into the cheerful warmth of the house, still mercilessly dragging Zexion after him. The door slammed shut, and then all was silent.

Demyx remained rooted to the spot for the longest time, unable to breathe, unable to move. At length, shaking his head, he lurched to the bench--the same one where Zexion had been trying to make him not ten minutes before--and collapsed in an aching and weary heap.

The only thought running through his mind was, _What the HELL just happened...?_

_TBC_

* * *

See? Long! Actually, I feel like a few chapters of _The Captive _are a bit longer than this, but I doubt that the people who read my KH fics are the same people who read my SGA fics. Soo...that means nothing, really.

The next chapter, "Incubus", involves even Zemyx interaction and--*gasp*--my first attempt at an actual sex scene (besides the one tossed into the "Sin" story of _Recollections_). So if you're looking forward to that, stick around. I promise I'll update as soon as I can (which doesn't mean very "soon", but...).

Obligatory paragraph-long preview:

__

Demyx couldn't help it--his first reaction was _pity. _Huddled in the cell like that, his head down, his slate-colored hair obscuring his face, Zexion looked small, fragile, easily breakable. Silver cuffs cleamed around his wrists and ankles, and long, thin silver chains led to bolts on the wall--there was no way he could escape. He was still wearing the black turtleneck and slacks he'd been at the party, but the shoulder of his sweater was torn, exposing pale skin and--dried, crusty blood over several deep gashes. Demyx had the nasty suspicion that Zexion only had more injuries on his body.

If you read this, review, please. I'm getting irritated at people who read but can't be bothered to leave a comment or two. So please? For every review I'll send you an e-cookie. And e-cookies have no fat or cholesterol in them, so they're good for you.


	3. Incubus

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_3. Incubus_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), noncon, graphic scenes, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Wow! Fast update! I can't promise the others will be this quick, but for now I'm really on a roll with this story! I've even started on the fifth chapter! So I'm happy. Really, I love this story to pieces and I'm overwhelmed by the response to it (cough usually my pieces never get that many reviews...) So I'm on cloud nine right now.

This chapter contains more strong Zemyx moments--including a sex scene! Wowza! So early, too! So I'm scared, because I'm kind of bad at writing lemony scenes (at least this is what _I _feel). Though this story will only have more lemony scenes in it, so I guess I'd better get used to it.

* * *

Funny, how Demyx had left Axel's villa last night swearing he'd never return (at least until Axel got rid of that _vampire_...)--but less than twelve hours later he was standing at the gates of Axel's expensive abode again, this time arguing with a smartly uniformed butler.

"_Please, _sir, if you do not leave within fifteen minutes I'll be forced to call security, and believe me, that would be a most unpleasant experience for _both _of us," sighed the butler, running a hand through his hair. He seemed exasperated, but Demyx was too.

"Please let me in," insisted Demyx. "Believe me, I _am _a friend of Axel's. I was at the party last night, don't you remember?"

The butler swept his eyes skeptically over Demyx, and Demyx knew that the butler was taking in Demyx's shabby appearance, his ragged coat, his beaten-up suitcase, and failing to connect _that _to the well-dressed party-goers from last night. "Are you accusing me of _stupidity, _sir?" snapped the butler, a flash of anger in his voice.

"Look, I _mean _it," said Demyx desperately, trying to peer beyond the butler through the gates. He saw the same courtyard where he'd been attacked by Zexion last night, looking quite different now in the full daylight, and beyond the courtyard the imposing edifice of the villa. There was no one in sight besides a gardener hard at work trimming a few hedges.

"And _I _mean what I say too," said the butler. "Now, if you don't mind, sir, please leave before I'm forced to take more drastic measures."

Demyx felt his exasperation grow, to the point where he would have liked nothing more than to grab the butler by his starched uniform collar and slam him into the nearest wall. He managed to keep his more violent instincts under check, however, and said, biting down the urge to swear, "I...I'm a vampire slayer, you know. Like Axel. Here, I'll show you my license..." He set his briefcase down and began to fumble through his coat pockets, but the butler interrupted him.

"That _won't _be necessary, sir," he said haughtily. "Even if you _are _a vampire slayer I won't just let you in. Please try to understand, sir. I can't just let in random riffraff from the streets. The vampire slayers the master knows are all of the highest caliber, the most accomplished. Simply because you're a ragamuffin with a license doesn't mean--"

Whatever else he was going to say Demyx didn't get to hear, which he supposed was a good thing because it prevented Demyx from exacting his plan to grab the butler by the collar and pummel him. Instead, the butler was cut off mid-sentence by a very familiar sardonic voice issuing from the intercom by the gate, "_Aww, just let him in, will you?"_

"B-b-but--" stammered the butler, looking beside himself with indignity and confusion. He cast another evil look at Demyx's ratty coat, an evil look that Demyx returned with little reluctance. "But this--this _urchin_--"

"_Relax," _Axel's voice said. "_Look, he's a friend of mine. Name's Demyx. Got it memorized?"_

Yes Axel, I have it memorized, thought Demyx in irritation. Many things about Axel were irritating, but few could match his catch phrase when it came to being annoying. Demyx had heard that catch phrase enough times during his days as Axel's student--vampires are weakened by sunlight, got it memorized? A well-placed blow to the head will stun but a strike to the heart will definitely kill, got it memorized? Most vampires can summon familiars, got it memorized?--to have become utterly sickened by it. Sometimes hearing echoes of it in other peoples' speech--even innocuous phrases like "Got it?"--was enough to make Demyx want to clutch his head and start screaming. Thankfully, he'd never been driven to the point of _that _before.

"Of--of course, sir," said the butler although he still seemed somewhat doubting. "Very well then...if you please, sir...enjoy your stay." Although from his tone of voice it was obvious he didn't mean it.

Still, Demyx didn't mind. Let Axel's butler be rude. The gate soundlessly swung open, and Demyx stepped inside into the courtyard. He cast a brief glance around, eyes lingering for a moment on the flat reflective pool where he and Zexion had had their little...confrontation...and then tore his eyes away and began striding down the courtyard, ignoring the strange look the gardener cast him, up to Axel's front door.

Axel was there to greet him, leaning casually against the door frame with that all too familiar smirk on his face. He wasn't wearing the formal tuxedo he had been last night but a plain black shirt and matching jeans. "Morning, Dems. What brings you here?"

"How'd you know I was out there?" said Demyx, evading the question for the moment.

"Oh, I saw you and Saunders--that's the butler--talking from the top floor. I didn't say anything earlier because I wasn't sure it was you, but then I figured only _you _would dress so rattily. No offense," said Axel with a disarming grin that was almost a smirk. Demyx sighed.

"Gee, thanks for the compliment," he said.

"Hey, I already said 'no offense', didn't I?" said Axel with a shrug. "Well, come on in, Dems. Visiting me now that you know where I live?"

"It's not a 'visit', exactly," said Demyx as he followed Axel into the villa. He only cast the briefest of glances around the ornamented interior, trying to _act _like he didn't care how fancy Axel's place was at all.

"Oh? And how's that?" said Axel, casting Demyx a sidelong glance, although--maybe this was just Demyx's imagination--his eyes lingered for a moment on the battered briefcase in Demyx's hands.

"Well...I hope you don't mind..." hedged Demyx. It was bad enough, imposing himself on a friend (friend? Ha, said that nasty voice in his mind) like this, but when the friend happened to be _Axel _of all people...once more, Demyx found himself reluctantly flashing back to that incident last night, where Axel had been unrecognizable in his rage. He wondered just what Axel had done to Zexion...

"Yeah? Get to it," said Axel, although he didn't sound impatient. They scaled a flight of stairs. "Why have you decided to pay me this 'not-visit', eh, pupil?"

"I'm not your pupil anymore," said Demyx with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, yeah," said Axel distractedly. He pushed open a door and stepped inside, and Demyx followed. The room they had arrived in seemed to be a study located on the very top floor of the villa. The walls were paneled with oak and several bookshelves stuffed with heavy, leather-bound, and very dull-looking tomes lined the room. The curtains had been pushed wide open, letting in streams of bright mid-morning sunshine. In the middle of the room was a heavy oak desk covered with an assorted clutter of books, papers, pens, and, lost in the middle of it all, a sleek computer.

"Sorry, it's a mess," said Axel. Demyx shrugged.

"That's okay," he said. He was used to Axel's messiness, having been Axel's student for so long. It was one of the few things Demyx had directly inherited from his mentor.

"So, just _what _are you doing here again?" said Axel, perching on the edge of the desk. Demyx had wandered over to the window, and looked down--from his vantage point he could see the entire courtyard and even the street beyond.

"Oh, right...about that," said Demyx, now feeling somewhat nervous. "Uh...I was just wondering...um...I'd like...if it's fine with you..."

"Oh! You want to stay here?" said Axel, catching on immediately. Demyx actually jolted in shock and almost fell from his surprise, but managed to catch himself and turn around, more than a little reluctantly, to face Axel.

"...yeah," he said rather sullenly.

Axel, to Demyx's surprise, didn't seem irritated or angry at all at Demyx's request. In fact, he seemed practically _delighted, _what with the way his smirk was now almost eating up his face, and there was no mistaking the maniacally amused light shining in Axel's eyes.

"Oh, come on," said Axel. "Don't be embarrassed. Happens to the best of us. Let me guess--you were evicted?"

Demyx decided there was no point in evading the issue, and jerked his head in a glum nod. "Yeah. I wasn't able to pay my rent--but whatever, never mind." _Axel _didn't have to worry about rent, so why was Demyx bothering to tell him this...? He wouldn't sympathize...

Axel didn't help things along by throwing his head back and laughing. "Ha! Well, that's too bad for you, Dems. But really--make yourself at home here. I won't mind--and it'll be just like old times, won't it?"

"Hey, I'm not your student anymore," said Demyx, unable to keep a twinge of irritation from entering his voice.

"But you'll still be living under my roof, hmm?" said Axel, the trace of a laugh still shining in his eyes. He'd maneuvered behind the desk so he was standing beside the computer. "Then it's pretty much the same thing."

Demyx was about to protest it _wasn't_--but at that moment several loud knocks sounded from the door. Axel looked annoyed at the interruption, but strode to the door anyway and threw it open. His butler, Saunders, was standing there, looking very self-important.

"You have a visitor, Master Axel," he said, making a conspicuous point of not looking at Demyx at all.

"Huh? Who the--" began Axel, looking irritated, but then understanding dawned on his features. "Oh, it must be the guy from the blood bank--"

"Blood bank?" said Demyx, following Axel as the older slayer exited the room, not even paying any attention to a very affronted-looking Saunders. They swept their way down the carved mahogany steps, Axel humming a jaunty tune as he walked with his hands in his pockets.

"_Yeah, _Dems," said Axel, his tone slightly impatient. "How else do you think I'm keeping my little pet fed?"

"Oh..." said Demyx, realizing what Axel meant and deciding it made a lot of sense. But all the same...he couldn't banish a faint feeling of disquiet. "But what about the people who, uh, really need transfusions--"

They'd reached the front door by now, and as Demyx spoke Axel paused in the doorframe and threw Demyx a long, piercing look. It was a look the younger slayer recognized, with a sharp jolt in his heart--that same look of scornful condescension, of a teacher's frustration in a student unable to grasp a concept _he _considered basic. The trip down memory lane was, needless to say, highly unpleasant and unwelcome.

"Who gives a fuck about them, Demyx?" said Axel, and the condescending look left his face to be replace by a wide smirk. "Come on, now--oh, hey, there. Thanks. Now get lost."

The boy who'd delivered Axel something in a plastic bag obeyed and scampered off the instant Axel had given the imperious command. Demyx sighed inwardly--that was Axel, as rude and callous as always. Even back _then _he'd often wondered what had driven Axel to become a slayer, when he himself didn't give a damn about the common people who were most often the victims of vampire attacks.

Axel's answer had been simple: _"I'm a slayer because my parents were slayers. Got it memorized?"_

Shitty reason, but hey, if Axel was keeping the streets safe at night, his _intentions _didn't matter, did they...?

They had started up the stairs again, though this time instead of heading to the very top, they stopped on the second floor and Axel ducked into a room that must have been the kitchen. It was nothing like any kitchen _Demyx _had ever seen before--not a falling-apart-at-its-seams communal tenement kitchen; but a wide room with a floor laid in elegant coral tile, and with polished granite countertops and sleek, shiny, silver appliances. A young woman stood at a counter, neatly slicing vegetables--Axel, however, ignored her completely and strode straight across the room to a back counter. Demyx trailed after Axel, watching as the redhead opened the plastic bag and pulled out a hospital-issue IV bag--filled with deep red blood.

A sudden irreverent part of Demyx wondered what the person who'd happily donated the blood, feeling that they'd done the world a great service, would think about the use it was being put to..._now._

Axel continued his work intently, pulling a knife out of--_where? _His pocket?--and slitting the bag open in a single neat motion. He then tilted it, emptying the dark substance into a coffee mug. The blood splashed into the mug and some of it sloshed over the edge, but Axel didn't seem to care about the mess he was making. Demyx's head started to spin; something about seeing the blood, congealed slightly and smelling not only of copper but of hospitals, made him feel ill.

"What're you doing?" he said, as Axel slid the mug into the microwave and started pressing buttons. Axel turned to flash Demyx an imperious smirk.

"My little pet won't drink it if it's cold, so I'm doing him a favor by warming it up. Aren't I thoughtful?"

_No, _thought Demyx sourly, _you're the farthest from "thoughtful" I've ever seen a person be. _But Axel mentioning Zexion had started Demyx thinking about the beautiful vampire who had tried seducing him last night and been caught--and presumably punished--by Axel. Demyx gulped, wondering what kind of "thoughtfulness" Axel had displayed to his vampire after that incident.

The microwave beeped, and Axel reached in to remove the now steaming--and even more sickening-smelling--mug of blood. Demyx's stomach was churning uncomfortably, and he berated himself inside for it--what kind of vampire slayer became sick at the smell of blood? Just as Axel removed the mug, though, his pocket let out a very loud series of beeps.

"Huh?" said Demyx, confused, whipping his head around wildly and wondering where the beeps were coming from--surely not Axel's _pants? _But Axel solved the mystery for Demyx by yanking a sleek, top-of-the-line cell phone from his pocket and flipping it deftly open. _Duh. _Demyx might not have had a phone, but Axel most certaintly possessed the most advanced kind out there. It was just the kind of person he was...

"Hey, Luxord," said Axel. Demyx jerked in recognition at the name--Luxord was a prominent banker who provided much funding to vampire slayers and slayer societies. "Oh--what? What the hell? All right, all _right_...hey, look, I _do _take care of my finances--! All right, all right, I'll be down there later, how 'bout four...huh? Right _now? _C'mon, can you be _any _more impatient? Fine, fine, I'll _be _there. Damn it, you bring up my father again and I'll--! Okay, _okay. _I'm _coming, _don't get your panties in a bunch. I--okay, I'll come _right now, _happy? Yes, I _do _mean it. I'll be there! See ya! Geez."

"What is it?" said Demyx, frowning suspiciously at Axel. The conversation had not sounded like a pleasant one... "What did Luxord want?"

"He _said _that there was something wrong with my finances," said Axel, scowling heavily. "But what the fuck, it's probably _him _reading the computer screen wrong--you know that old fogey. Still, better safe than sorry."

"What--you're _going?" _said Demyx, taken aback.

"Yeah, yeah, I _know, _it's sudden, but Luxord made it sound really urgent so I...I can't get out of it," said Axel, and he unleashed a heavy sigh. "So I gotta go now." And sure enough, he'd already started for the exit.

"But--hey--!" called Demyx indignantly as Axel began taking the stairs down two at a time. "What am I supposed to do with--"

Axel didn't let Demyx finish. Instead, he called as he reached the first floor, "_You _take it to him! Here's the keys to the basement--catch!"

Demyx caught the keys Axel had lobbed him, somewhat awkwardly. By the time he'd stopped fumbling to make sure the keys didn't fall to the floor, Axel had already swept out of the front door. Demyx had half a mind to follow Axel, but decided against it--why the hell was he trying to convince Axel to stay? If it was urgent, then Axel had every right to leave...

The only reason he wanted Axel to stay, Demyx decided uncomfortably, was because _he _was selfish. After all, if Axel stayed it meant _he _would bring his "thoughtful" little treat down to his vampire--and Demyx wouldn't have to smell the blood.

Nor would he have to see Zexion.

With a resigned sigh, Demyx turned and headed back to the kitchen, keeping one hand pinched to his nose. He couldn't do anything about Zexion, sure, but at the very least he'd make sure he kept his breakfast in his stomach.

* * *

Below the villa were the rooms that Axel had euphemistically labeled the "basements"--but would more accurately be termed _dungeons. _For one thing, they were dark and gloomy, and Demyx could barely see his way down the stairs--not that he needed to. His early training, though not in this house, had taken place in one very similar and that house had had dungeons too. Axel had taught him very early on how to maneuver in the utter darkness without any light, with just his other senses--after all, Axel reasoned, a slayer would often have to hunt prey in the dead of a moonless night.

It was somewhat difficult to maneuver given that Demyx was _trying _not to spill the steaming mug of blood, at the same time he was tightly pinching his nose. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that he was still sucking in blood fumes from his mouth, but at the very least...he wasn't _smelling _them. He made his way down, anyway, and found himself in Axel's dungeons.

The basement had been divided into four different cells, two on each wall, with a small walkway between them. Three were unoccupied, but one, on the far side of the room, glimmered with a faint halo of light--from the feebly flickering bulb dangling from a string above the cell. And in that dim light...

Demyx approached slowly, letting both arms fall to his sides. He no longer registered the smell of blood. Now, he was only focused on one thing--the slim figure hunched in the farthest cell. The basement was silent, so Demyx's every step echoed unnaturally loud through the gloom, echoing and then slowly fading away into silence. He was sure they were loud enough to startle the prisoner, but the figure in the cell didn't move, let alone look up, at the sound of Demyx's steps.

And then Demyx was in front of the cell. _Zexion's _cell.

Demyx couldn't help it--his first reaction was _pity. _Huddled in the cell like that, his head down, his slate-colored hair obscuring his face, Zexion looked small, fragile, easily breakable. Silver cuffs gleamed around his wrists and ankles, and long, thin silver chains led to bolts on the wall--there was no way he could escape. He was still wearing the black turtleneck and slacks he'd been at the party, but the shoulder of his sweater was torn, exposing pale skin and--dried, crusty blood over several deep gashes. Demyx had the nasty suspicion that Zexion only had more injuries on his body.

Axel's "thoughtfulness", indeed.

"Uh..." he said nervously. Zexion didn't respond to this--in fact, a small part of Demyx started wondering if Zexion was _asleep. _But no, he remembered what Axel had taught him long ago...vampires didn't sleep.

"Um," said Demyx again. "Uh, hello...I brought you...uh..." He tried to figure out what time it was--it'd been about ten in the morning when he'd arrived. "Brunch."

At first, there was no response to this--Zexion remained as still and lifeless as ever. But then, he slowly lifted his head, and said, in a quiet voice that rasped through the dark silence, "I know. I can smell it."

"Er--" Demyx took a startled step back--sloshing a bit of the blood. "Ah--uh--"

"Tongue-tied on top of everything?" A faint hint of amusement had entered Zexion's still-quiet, still-rasping, voice, but the look in his one visible eye was dark and hardened. Several large bandages shone white on his cheek and forehead. "Enter."

"Er--okay, okay," said Demyx quickly. He started fumbling for the keys, but his fingers felt strangely numb and it took him the while to find the right one and stick it into the lock. The lock didn't click so much as squeal, for need of oiling, and he slid the barred cell door open, with another hideous squeal. Zexion never once removed his eyes from Demyx's face, his expression completely deadened, his hands folded in his lap.

"I would ask you to have a seat," Zexion continued, the hoarse and rasping quality leaving his voice as he spoke and his tone becoming more clipped, normal, "but as there is no suitable place for you to sit down here, I will have to bid adieu to common courtesy for now. The blood?"

"Uh..." Demyx remembered what Zexion wanted a second late, and handed over the mug with a shaking hand--causing more blood to slosh over the edge. Zexion eyed Demyx disapprovingly, but accepted the mug anyhow, cradling it in his pale and thin hands and examining its contents with a look of bored disinterest.

Demyx felt like he should make some conversation--the silence was starting to bother him. He leaned against the opposite wall, hands by his sides, trying to think of what to say to break the uncomfortable silence. All he managed was a choked out, "Well...um...er...um...hey, why aren't you--why aren't you drinking?"

"Hmm?" Zexion cast Demyx a brief, disinterested glance, and then looked down at the mug again. "Oh, well. It is too hot."

"Really? But he said--" began Demyx.

"Yes, I _did _protest when he tried to feed it to me directly out of the hospital freezer--so he went in the _opposite _direction and heated it up too much for my liking. That man redefines 'contrary'."

"Redefines 'contrary'". That was as good a description for Axel as any.

"Yeah, ha ha..." said Demyx, laughing weakly. What else was he supposed to do, though? He'd never before been in a serious conversation with a pureblood vampire--hell, he'd never before even _seen _a pureblood vampire! This time, though, he vowed he'd keep his guard up...no more letting Zexion take advantage of him...

After that, the two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence. Zexion kept his gaze determinedly away from Demyx as he waited for his--brunch--to cool, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall. Demyx, conversely, couldn't keep his eyes off Zexion. There was just..._something_...about the vampire, something that enticed Demyx in the strangest way. Even under the bandages, his face was as elegantly beautiful as always, and his hair, though somewhat mussed up, still seemed impossibly delicate. And the curve of his pale neck, visible even underneath his turtleneck...

Demyx flushed bright red and coughed to distract himself. Again, he felt embarrassed about staring at Zexion like a voyeur. Who cared how _pretty _he was--he was still a vampire! Hell, his beauty was a part of his image. Demyx could not, _must _not, forget that Zexion was an incubus, and used his looks as a tool to get people to do whatever he wanted...

Lost in the midst of his thoughts, Demyx hadn't noticed that Zexion had started sipping his blood--short and tentative sips, as if he didn't enjoy what he was drinking. Certainly the look of subtle distaste on his face seemed to suggest that. Demyx was confused; didn't vampires all just _delight _in the taste of blood?

He voiced his confusion aloud. "Hey--what's the matter? You don't like it?"

Zexion shot Demyx a look that strongly implied that Demyx was a total idiot. "Tch. You honestly think I _would _like it?"

"Huh?" This just confused Demyx even more. "Well--of _course_--I mean--you're a vampire, don't you drink blood--?"

"Idiot," said Zexion, his tone sharp. When he looked back at Demyx his expression was admonitory. "Here's an analogy for you, so that you can understand in your simplistic human terms--would _you _enjoy eating food that had been dropped on the floor, stomped on, covered in dirt, and then burnt to a crisp?"

"Of course not!" said Demyx, but seeing what Zexion was trying to imply, hastily added, "But it's not like--I mean, that blood was in a _blood bank, _they'd be treating it good--"

"_Well, _not _good," _snapped Zexion. "And anyway, it _hasn't _been treated 'well'. It tastes of formaldehyde and hospital cleaner and all other sorts of disgusting chemicals. Do you know what they put in this blood to make it last longer--? And it must be at least several months old." He wrinkled his nose in disgust, and the sudden gesture caused his entire face to seem much younger. "We vampires prefer blood that is fresh...gushing out of our victim just as it dies...that's the best kind of food. That's when it's at its sweetest."

Demyx was beginning to feel disconcerted at the direction this conversation was taking...unconsciously, he pressed a hand to his neck, where he could feel the vein throbbing beneath the skin. Zexion noticed the gesture, and let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

"Don't worry so much, Demyx," he said, his slight smirk revealing the hint of fangs. "I will not eat you. I _cannot _eat you." And to prove his point, he lifted his wrist; the silver chain dangling from the cuff jangled.

"Um, all right," said Demyx, though he took a step back just in case. Zexion responded to this with another insidious chuckle. "Say, um...after yesterday..."

"Speaking of which," said Zexion, a little too quickly--Demyx realized that Zexion wanted to divert the subject from the uncomfortable tangent Demyx had been trying to bring up. "What _are _you doing here, exactly? I thought you left after last night."

"Well, um yeah, I did," said Demyx. "But I came back...I wanted to live with Axel again, and he offered me a place to stay, so..." He trailed off, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Ahh...I see. So I suppose I will be seeing more of you?" Zexion cast Demyx a querying look.

"Er--" Demyx hadn't thought about it that way, but hell, it _was _true. "Yeah. I guess I'll be seeing more of you, too."

He couldn't explain why, but that thought made him almost..._happy. _Happy that he'd get to spend more time with Zexion, with the mysterious pureblood Axel had captured...as if in a dream, Demyx watched Zexion, taking in the vampire's every detail--how deathly pale his skin was, how he shook his head slightly at times to keep his delicate slate-blue hair out of his eyes. How he drummed his clawed fingers on the sides of the mug as if just wanting something to do, how thin he was, how he conspicuously avoided putting any strain on his injured shoulder...

And without really thinking about what he was doing, Demyx found himself moving closer, and closer, and closer, to Zexion...until he was mere feet away from the vampire. He settled to his knees by Zexion's side, not caring or noticing how _close _he was, and Zexion didn't seem to care either--he just lifted an eyebrow, looking faintly surprised, but bored at the same time. And still not fully realizing what he was doing, Demyx lifted his hand and rested it, with infinite gentleness, on top of Zexion's.

Neither was surprised at the gesture, not even Demyx. Demyx was faintly aware of how cold Zexion's hand was beneath his, but more than that--he was aware of _Zexion. _He felt like he was truly seeing Zexion for the first time--almost as if Zexion had been cast in a new light, in a refracting mirror that scattered the jumbled pieces of himself yet made them come together in a new, strange, but--_beautiful_--whole.

The vampire practically seemed to be glowing as he lowered his head to Demyx's hand, his dark blue eyes alight with a light Demyx couldn't quite identify, his thin lips pulled back in a faint smile that revealed his pointed fangs in all their entirety. Somehow, though...Zexion's fanged smile seemed to make him all the more _beautiful. _He pressed his lips to Demyx's hand, briefly, but an electric mix of sensations flooded Demyx from where Zexion had kissed the vein jumping on the back of his hand--

_Beautiful, _was the only coherent thought running through Demyx's head. He leaned closer to Zexion, wanting more of the vampire's electrifying presence, and Zexion obliged, taking Demyx's shoulders in his hands and pressing his lips, with utmost gentleness, on Demyx's neck now--again where the vein twitched and leaped. Much like last night, but different; this time Demyx felt no fear, just a blazing exictement running through his veins and--

"You're an easy one to train," murmured Zexion, almost flowing onto Demyx's lap. The silver chains clinked around him, but he seemed to be ignoring them, and Demyx ignored them too. Zexion's every motion was practiced, graceful, filled with an elegant poise that excited Demyx far more than any vulgar gyrating or dancing could have. Zexion's face was only inches from his, and his _presence _was everywhere, surrounding Demyx, drowning him in a din of sensations he couldn't quite comprehend--silver moonlight, dark shadows, a faint hint of violets, bitter vanilla, black coffee, blood and lust, love and loss--

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Zexion dug his fingers into Demyx's sweat-soaked hair, pulling the slayer's face even closer to his so that they were almost touching lips, and all Demyx could see were Zexion's eyes, the darkest shade of blue he'd ever seen before.

"_I know," _replied the vampire in just as low a whisper--and he slowly removed a hand from Demyx's face and reached for the waistband of Demyx's pants.

Demyx didn't protest. In fact, he did his best to help Zexion, sliding out of his pants when Zexion finished undoing the zipper. Zexion let out a low little laugh at Demyx's eagerness, which just served to excite the slayer more. He didn't need any prompting to reach for Zexion's shirt, and he lifted it slowly, savoring the pleasure of seeing Zexion's pale skin being exposed inch-by-inch...

White and red. Brown. Pink. Black, blue. Cuts, scrapes, bruises, dried blood, standing out starkly against Zexion's snow-white skin. Demyx paused, startled by the sight of so many injuries across Zexion's otherwise flawless body, but the vampire snatched Demyx by the wrists and made him pull the shirt up as much as it could go--not entirely off, because of the restraints around Zexion's arms. Still, it was enough to excite Demyx. Another laugh from Zexion, and then he was returning the favor, unbuttoning Demyx's shirt while Demyx reached for Zexion's pants.

Nothing mattered now. He didn't stop to think about the logic of his actions, about the consequences of what he was doing. Nothing mattered except Zexion--lithe, beautiful, so wonderfully _skillful, _and he would stop at nothing until he had Zexion.

Zexion was kissing him now, planting kiss after exquisite kiss on Demyx's neck, on his collarbone, on his chest and stomach--suddenly, alarmed, Demyx felt a surge of embarrassment. How could _he _compare to the inhumanly beautiful creature before him? But Zexion didn't seem to care--he was kissing and sucking on Demyx's skin with an eager intentness, occasionally scraping his fangs against the skin--whenever that happened, Demyx jumped in surprised pleasure.

And then Zexion lowered his head and kissed Demyx right on the tip of his erect shaft.

_Holy fucking God! _And all coherent thought flew straight out of Demyx's head through the window. He squeaked out loud from pleasure, prompting an answering laugh from Zexion, and thrust his hips forward, desperately trying to get more of himself into Zexion's warm and wonderful mouth--

"Oh--God--_Zexion_--" he groaned. "_More_--"

"As you wish, Demyx," said Zexion, his voice a low, enticing, whisper, and he deftly slipped the rest of Demyx's length into his mouth.

Pleasure beyond any Demyx had felt before coursed through the vampire slayer's body, setting his every nerve on fire. Screw those "karaoke girls"--anything _they _could do was pale, drab and lifeless compared to _this. _Compared to the pleasure that Zexion's wonderfully warm and sweet mouth could do--Zexion was ducking up and down Demyx's erection now, sucking with an unabashed pleasure, his eyes tightly closed. The combination of sensations--of Zexion's warm and supple tongue carressing his length, of Zexion's fangs scraping the delicate skin--was more than Demyx could handle. He gasped and arched further into Zexion's mouth, wanting more, more, _more_--the pleasure was pure gold--

He came with a startled shout, his entire body tensing as he flooded Zexion's mouth with his essence. Zexion kept his eyes closed, his face perfectly composed, even as Demyx jerked and writhed in his orgasm, seeing, for the briefest of flashes, pure white.

It wasn't over, yet. Just as Demyx relaxed with a sigh, feeling his erection deflate, Zexion suddenly leapt back on him, smashing his lips with a ferocious hunger on to Demyx's--and flooding the slayer's mouth with his own semen. Demyx choked and gasped in surprise, but Zexion's unrelenting lock on his mouth meant he had no choice but to swallow. He did, and was surprised--he didn't taste that bad.

"Forgive me, Demyx," said Zexion, pulling away, a faint laugh in his voice and a smirk on his face. "But there are _certain _things..."

Demyx just cracked a weary smile. He suddenly felt very tired but he didn't know why--it was as if Zexion had sucked away not only Demyx's semen but something else, something baser to his nature. The excitement hadn't disappeared entirely, but it _had _calmed down, from the overpowering roaring wave into a faint throb in his blood. Now, when he looked at Zexion, he no longer saw the exhilarating beauty he'd seen before, but a boy that while attractive, was nothing terribly special; and all of Zexion's injuries were suddenly thrown into sharp relief against his death-white skin. The cell seemed to have become darker and more cramped, and the scene of decay--dark water stains on the wall, the mug overturned and thick blood flowing on to the floor--

His vision was beginning to gray at the edges, and his head was beginning to feel heavy. He let it droop to the crook of his neck, and fought to keep his eyelids open, but it was a losing battle. Darkness flickered across his vision. He could do nothing to fight it, so he allowed himself to slump against the cold wall, stretching out his limbs and relaxing. Zexion remained on the opposite wall--he couldn't go further because of the chains holding him back--watching Demyx, his dark blue eyes unreadable but intent.

"You made it too easy, Demyx," he said, his voice quiet.

"I think I did," mumbled Demyx, his words sleep-slurred and senseless, and he stopped battling the heaviness in his head and let the world of dreams take him prisoner.

* * *

"Fucking idiot."

The words were harsh and loud, slicing through Demyx's mind like a hot knife through putty. He groaned out loud, throwing his arm in front of his face to shield himself from the harshness of the voice and the sudden bright light cutting across his vision--where the hell--where was he--it was _soft_--

"You fucking moron," said the voice again, and Demyx recognized it--_Axel. _"Seems I can't leave you alone for even a fucking _second."_

What was Axel _saying? _Why was he being so mean? Wait--what was he doing, hadn't he left, no, unless he came back--why was the bed so _soft_--

"You're not even a very good student," continued Axel as meanly as ever. "I thought you would have _remembered _that lesson seeing as you giggled throughout the whole fucking damn thing. Hell_o, _Demyx--does the word _incubus _ring any bells?"

Oh, _snap._

A sudden feeling of mortified shock descended on Demyx as it all came crashing down--where he was, what had happened, what--oh, he couldn't bear to even _think _about it. He knew now that he was lying in Axel's bed, in Axel's room, and that was why it was so soft, and that Axel was sitting by the side of his bed glaring at him with a look of perfect fury shining in his brilliant green eyes. And he knew what had happened before...

Why the fuck _hadn't _he realized? No, he _did _at the end, but that was too late...that was _after _Zexion had already been through with him. No wonder Zexion had appeared so beautiful, so enticing...he was an incubus; it was part of his gifts. He lived by seduction. How could Demyx let even a basic detail like _that _escape him?

"Oh, God...Axel, Axel..." he groaned, shaking his head over and over again. "I'm the biggest--I'm the biggest idiot _ever, _aren't I?"

Axel did not help his self-esteem by saying, "Yeah, you _are."_

"I didn't...oh God I _didn't..." _Demyx threw his head to the side, burying his face into the soft pillow. "Why the--I'm so _embarrased_--"

"Be glad he didn't do anything else to you. He could have--he could have _turned _you, like he tried to last night," continued Axel, his voice harsh--but was there a touch of _concern _to his voice? No, of course not... "Or worse. Seems he just settled for the old 'nightmare' routine tonight, so consider yourself lucky."

_Nightmares... _Demyx shuddered, remembering the dreams that had plagued him during his sleep. Dreams of racing across a roof on a dark and rainy night, dreams of a pasty-faced, blood-splattered monster chasing after him, dreams of wandering through long and dark hallways while his mother's sobs echoed through his ears...

"I can't...I can't believe it," Demyx half-groaned, half-sobbed. "I...he was so _beautiful_...I just _wanted _him..."

"A natural reaction," said Axel, in the dry manner of a teacher dispensing knowledge. "Believe me, when _I _first saw him--let me tell you, my heart just stopped. He _is _a beautiful little monster, and of course you'd want to have him. But _you _have to have _him, _not the opposite way around."

"How...how do I do that?" said Demyx, lifting his face from the pillow to eye Axel suspiciously--but _hopefully _as well.

"Simple. Well, it's _not _so simple," said Axel, jerking his shoulders in a shrug. "Not really. I'd have to teach you--but the _principle _is simple enough. You have to _master _him."

Master. Demyx swallowed the word in his throat, tasting it, how dry and harsh the sound was. "Like...like you did."

"Yeah. Like me. It's not easy, let me tell you. Especially if he's an incubus. He knows how to seduce and he knows how to screw with your mind," said Axel, his tone falling into the old, familiar lilt of teacher-lecturing-student. "But it can be done. His powers are weaker now, especially if he's in the prison. Silver chains and whatnot, right? But it'll mostly take effort on your part. It'll be hard, but it can be done. But--hell, I'll show you myself."

"Really?" said Demyx, his eyes widening. He felt hopeful in a strange way--he'd be able to have sex with Zexion! But in another way...he couldn't help the disquieted little squirm his stomach gave. He remembered Zexion's utter terror that night in the courtyard, how he'd practically flung himself at Axel's feet and begged for mercy...all because _Axel _had been the one to "master" him.

Did Demyx want _that _to happen? Did he really want to break Zexion's will and turn him into a frightened slave? Or...did he want the vampire as he was _now?_

_Yeah, but "as he is now" is the most dangerous to you, _Demyx told himself darkly. He shook his head to clear his head, and said to Axel, "So...um, when are you gonna...?"

"Soon, I promise, pupil," said Axel, and a slow, insidious smirk cut across his face, his eyes gleaming with a light that Demyx didn't...quite...like. "_Soon."_

* * *

A ha ha...actually, the whole "mastering" deal will only start to be touched on in the fifth chapter, so sorry to those of you hoping for some nice lemony goodness in the next chapter.

What the next chapter _does _do is introduce Roxas, though! That's right, Roxas is gonna be in this story. And here's the preview--

_But he was fighting. As the vampire lunged at him, its blood-stained claws gleaming, the boy lashed out with the pipe and hit the vampire on the arm. The vampire bellowed, sounding less hurt than annoyed, and its pasty face twisted into an unpleasant snarl, saliva and blood dripping from its fangs. It tried to grab the boy again, but he rolled out of the vampire's way and again swung the pipe, catching the vampire's ankle. The vampire stumbled but did not fall, and unleashed a roar of not just bloodlust but frustration, a roar that seemed to cause the clouds themselves to tremble._

As you can probably infer, the fourth chapter ("Roxas") will be fairly action-packed. I hope. I suck at action scenes, so...*slink under rock*

Do please review! Every review makes my day! I know that sounds pathetic, but... Whatever, just keep sending reviews, okay?


	4. Roxas

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_4. Roxas_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), noncon, graphic scenes, CHARACTER(S) DEATH, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Another fairly quick update. I'm _really _on a roll with this story, and I'm quite happy for it. :) Keep the reviews coming, please.

This chapter is a bit (a _bit_) shorter than the others, and it does a complete one eighty in that there's no Zexy at all and it doesn't directly pick up the "mastering" angle (that shall be the next chapter). Instead, this chapter focuses more on just what vampire slayers do in the first place, and also introduces Roxas. I'm really quite fond of this chapter and I don't know why (since there's no vamp-Zexy in it), but I feel it's the best display of the society I've built up (if that makes sense) so far.

Oh, and you're all gonna hate me by the time you're finished reading. Because there's CHARACTER DEATH! And you will _hate _me for who I kill. In the meantime, enjoy (at least until you find out who dies...)

* * *

Demyx should have known better than to trust Axel. "Soon", in Axel's parlance, was just another way of saying "later".

That is to say, that night when Demyx felt well enough to crawl out of bed and find Axel in the upstairs study, Axel said absolutely nothing about the little "Zexion" problem. Instead, the redheaded slayer had spread out several sheets of paper on his desk (the rest of the clutter had been unceremoniously shoved to the floor), and was scrutinizing them intently. Demyx recognized what they were in a flash.

"Hunter announcements...?"

"Sharp, Dems," said Axel, though he didn't look up from the papers. "Looks like a new gang of vampires arrived in the city."

Demyx sighed out loud. The gangs were a relatively new development in vampire society--previously (as in, back in the days when Axel's parents and Xigbar had been running around slaying vampires), the presence of regular "grunt" vampires tended to indicate that a pureblood had moved into the city and was employing them as his (or her) servants. But these days, more and more made vampires were showing up who _weren't _under the control of a lord--presumably their lord had been killed or had left the area. As more "masterless" vampires appeared, more and more of them started banding together into loose gangs. They might not have much beyond low animal cunning, but this same cunning directed them to gather in groups and work in a hierarchal, almost pack-like structure. It wasn't a development Demyx--or any hunter, for that matter--liked much, because it meant that if they killed one vampire there was no guarantee its fellow gang-mates weren't going to show up and exact retribution.

At times, Axel allowed that the rise of gangs just _might _have something to do with the fact that slayers were slaughtering more and more purebloods these days and leaving more and more made vampires without lords...but never let this line of speculation go any further.

"All right, all right..." Demyx glanced at the papers again. They were a jumble of blurry digital photographs, wanted posters, and images of the vampires' victims. "How can you tell, though? What if it's just one of the previous gangs--"

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Demyx," snorted Axel, his tone derisive. He brandished a paper in front of Demyx, still hot from the printer. "Here's the gang's latest victims. Recognize the pattern? I didn't think so."

Demyx had to stifle a gasp when he saw the pictures--even after his two years as a slayer, he had never seen anything quite like..._this. _The victims hadn't just been scratched a little bit and bitten on the neck: They were _mutilated, _torn nearly to bloody pieces. Even through the blurry black-and-white photograph, Demyx could see the gory mess the vampires had left behind.

"That's _horrible," _he said quietly.

"Yeah, horrible," said Axel, sounding as if he didn't really mean it. "This gang seems to like to target kids, too. Real public menace, hmm?"

Only _Axel _could make light out of something like this...but that was just like him. To _him, _killing vampires wasn't serious business, something he did to keep the city safe for its human inhabitants. It was just something he did out of a mix of obligation and fun. It was something he owed to his parents; but it was also a game, a sport, something to keep his adrenaline pumping.

In way, slaying was like that for Demyx, too. But only in a way.

"So it looks like we have to go," Axel continued. He was still bent over the computer, his eyes fixed on the screen, and didn't seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere--but Demyx detected the edge in Axel's voice. The anticipatory edge, the eager edge, the impatient edge. His blood was getting pumped for the hunt.

"'We'?" said Demyx, catching on to the plural.

"Yeah, _we," _said Axel, straightening from the computer. He reached to hit a button on the keyboard that turned the entire screen black--_Demyx _didn't know which, being the hugest technophobe alive. "Me and you. What, you thought that you were just gonna get a free ride here, that I was gonna give you food and a place to stay and you wouldn't have to do anything? Like _hell, _Dems. You're _working _for your keep, got it memorized?"

Ouch. There he went again with the catch phrase...a small and irreverent part of Demyx wondered if Axel even _realized _he was saying it. But most of him, however, was intent on the larger meaning of Axel's words. _Work for your keep..._

"You mean--you're going to let me--"

"I'm not your _teacher _anymore, you idiot," said Axel, striding to the door and not looking back at Demyx. "You don't need my _permission _for anything. And as they say--two slayers are better than one."

Despite himself, Demyx's heart leapt to his throat and he flushed pink--_pleased. _Was this the first ever proof that Axel thought of Demyx as _more _than a weak annoyance, a hopeless case he'd decided to train solely out of charity...? Was it proof that Axel thought of him as an _equal? _A fellow slayer?

But no. He was just getting his hopes foolishly up...and he'd spent enough time around Axel to know that the last thing he wanted to do was get his hopes up about the redhead. The instant he did, Axel would do something to send them crashing back down again. This much Demyx knew, and accepted for the truth--no matter how much it hurt.

"Hurry up, Demyx. I'm not waiting for you," shouted Axel from the hallway. Demyx jerked out of his reverie and quickly followed Axel, shaking his head like a punch-drunk dog.

"So how do you know where to go?" said Demyx, falling in step with Axel as they headed down the stairs--presumably to the armory (because hell, if Axel had a _dungeon _it stood to reason he had an _armory _too!).

Axel rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. "Google Earth is a slayer's best friend, kiddo." _King of condescension..._ "But I doubt you've ever heard of Google Earth before, have you, you poor technophobe?"

"Whatever. Let's get to the hunt," growled Demyx through clenched teeth, not wanting to deal with Axel's condescension right here and right now.

"Hmm?" Axel cast Demyx a sidelong glance, looking curious, but then his green eyes hardened, became serious, burning with the firm conviction characteristic to all vampire hunters. The conviction that there was nothing better than the thrill of the hunt, nothing better than chasing down and then sticking a stake into the heart of a snarling undead demon of the night.

When he spoke again, his voice was law, taut, completely devoid of any good-natured taunting. "Yeah. You're right. Time to start the hunt."

* * *

It was twilight when they left the house, the last bloody rays of sunset giving away to the dark majesty of night. They set out a brisk pace from the genteel, well-cultivated part of town Axel lived west towards the tenements--where until yesterday Demyx had made his home. The only sound was the steady thud of their steps on the street, matching the steady beating of Demyx's heart in his chest. Neither slayer spoke, too wrapped up in his own thoughts as he was.

Demyx was aware of his weapons inside his coat, clanking clumsily against his waist. Two handguns, tucked into holsters on opposite sides of his belt. Extra magazines of silver bullets. Axel, iconoclast slayer that he was, chose to disregard conventional slayer practice and favored guns above all other weapons, even the traditional silver-tipped stake. This earned him the enmity of traditionalists, who were sour about the son of one of the greatest vampire slaying families turning his back on centuries-old tradition, but Axel maintained that guns worked better because you could attack the vampire at a long range, thus ensuring _you _were safer. No pesky having to get right up to the monster to stab it in the heart. A well-placed shot would take care of all of that.

However, Demyx suspected another, somewhat more worldly reason for Axel preferring guns over stakes--he was close friends with Xigbar. In fact, every gun that Axel used was one manufactured by Xigbar's company. Like an Olympic athlete's endorsements, or a Nascar racer, thought Demyx sourly. Although the usage of guns had yet to catch on amongst the tradition-bound lot that most vampire slayers were.

Still, despite Axel's antipathy towards close-range weapons, Demyx had a few--two silver-edged steel knives, a silver-plated baton for physical subduing, like police did to criminals (and Demyx had had _plenty _of opportunities to watch police in action, growing up in a tenement as he did). No stakes, though. And there was a reason for all the silver--vampires abhorred the substance. Once again, Demyx found himself flashing back to Axel hitting Zexion across the face the previous night...to the stark red burns standing out on the vampire's pale face from where the silver rings on Axel's hand had struck him...

Demyx shook his head to clear it. It wouldn't do to get lost in his thoughts, not now...especially thoughts about _Zexion. _

They had now arrived in the more "disgraceful" part of town, where the streets dissolved into long and narrow alleyways and the well-to-do manors became rickety, falling-apart, graffiti-scarred public housing complexes. Men in dirty, ragged clothes perched outside buildings, cigarette smoke surrounding them in lazy curlicues, while women in too much makeup and revealing clothes paraded up and down the streets. One woman, with a pile of peroxide blonde hair and a partly see-through shirt that exposed practically all of her cleavage, approached Axel and Demyx, a smile that might have been seductive gracing her lips if it weren't for the fact that she was missing half her teeth.

"Heelloo, boys," she purred, in a miserable attempt to sound seductive. It didn't work quite so well because her voice was hoarse and grating, as if she smoked three packs of cigarettes a day. She certainly _smelled _it. "You look like you could do with...a bit of _entertainment." _With that, she reached out and patted Axel on the shoulder.

Axel, stony-faced, threw her hand rudely off. "Fuck off, lady," he snapped, and started stomping in the opposite direction.

Demyx was about to call Axel on his rudeness--she might have been a prostitute, but _still, _you _didn't _treat girls like that!--but then he noticed that the woman was staring, wide-eyed, at her hand as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Demyx caught the briefest flash of a wadded-up bunch of bills in her hand--and realized what Axel had done. At the same time he'd thrown her hand off his shoulder, he'd slipped her a wad of money. Clever bastard.

"Hey, you might wanna be careful," Demyx called to the prostitute as he and Axel slipped down another alley. "Vampires are out tonight." _Like they are _every _night._

"Yeah? What d'you think I care more about--_vampires, _or my john--" she called after them, but Demyx had to run to catch up to Axel and didn't make out the rest of what she said.

The night grew steadily darker as Axel and Demyx prowled through the alleyways, not just because of the setting sun but also because of the steadily decreasing amount of electrical lights on inside the tenements. Demyx shuddered slightly; this would be a good night for vampires to hunt. The clouds were thick and dark in the sky, and the moon was but a thin sliver whenever it was visible through the stars. A faint breeze blew, stirring the hairs on the back of Demyx's neck.

"Nothing's out, yet," he muttered out of the side of his mouth to Axel.

"That's 'cause it's early," replied Axel in just as low a voice. "We'll scout a bit and then we'll find more."

Demyx had nothing to say in reply to this, so he nodded. Axel was right.

The two of them said nothing else for more than an hour, focused on nothing but hints of their quarry. Vampires--at least the brutish, made vampires--were not a sneaky lot. They tended to leave obvious signs of their presence--bodies, most often. Axel paused at a few splotches of blood on the walls, but must have decided they were innocuous--just signs of the typical tenement instability, or else too old to care about--and passed them by.

Demyx was started to become impatient--though he'd _never _voice this to Axel. Still...they'd gone deep into the alleys and still hadn't encountered a single vampire yet, even though on a typical night, they would have encountered at least one vampire already. A part of Demyx wondered if Axel wasn't just scaring the vampires away with his presence, but that was stupid; made vampires did not have the intelligence to recognize individual slayers.

And then, suddenly, Axel stopped dead in his tracks--and turned pale. Demyx, too, stopped, his eyes following where Axel was staring at until he was staring at the dirty alley before him...at...

"_Blood," _said Axel, his voice barely above a fierce whisper. "Bingo."

Only _Axel _could be so cavalier at the sight of countless thick, dark splatters of blood all over the alley and the walls. Demyx shivered a bit, feeling a faint tremor of nausea, but he managed to keep it down. He was long past fainting at the _sight_ of blood--he could stand it now. It was a part of being a slayer.

"Seems to be forming a trail..." said Axel, sliding his hand into his coat as he followed the blood splatters. Sure enough, the dark splotches seemed to be forming a zigzagging trail, as if someone--no, _several people_--had been staggering to safety even when crippled by fatal injury. And as the slayers followed the blood trail, Demyx started to feel a faint quivering in the air, an oppressive heaviness pervading the quiet night--a feeling he could only describe as _dark._

"Vampires," he mumbled to Axel. "Um...one, right...?"

"One," said Axel, with a firm nod. _He _was always so accurate about sensing vampires, something that annoyed Demyx to no small degree. He'd spent years under Axel's tutelage, trying to hone his vampire sensing skills, but he could never do it with the same precision that Axel could. Axel could name exactly how many vampires there were, and even their relative levels of strength and skill. Demyx...Demyx could tell if there were a few or a lot. That was about it.

"Seems like--" Demyx opened his mouth to speak--but the words died in his throat. He could only stand where he was, his every nerve frozen, a chill spreading slowly from the base of his neck down his spine.

The vampire's victims lay on the ground before him.

Not "lay", exactly. It'd be more accurate to describe them as twisted, hunched, caught in their last throes of agony. There were three of them, and they all seemed to be young. Two boys--one lanky, one stout--and a girl, but their bodies were too mutilated to tell anything further about them. Deep gashes oozed dark blood that contrasted violently with their death-pale skin, and some of them had arms and legs not so much hacked off as _torn _off, leaving behind torn, bloody, and mangled stumps. Their clothes were nothing but shreds of fabric, dyed red from blood, scattered like autumn leaves around their grotesque corpses. And on their necks--the unmistakable sign of a vampire's fangs, two bright and bloody holes right over where the children's jugular veins had throbbed in their lifetimes.

Demyx had been a vampire slayer for two years and had trained as one for ten years before that. All the same...he'd _never _seen a kill so bloody before. And he felt sick, sick to his stomach, sick enough to want to bend over and retch all over the garbage-strewn alley--

"Shit on a shingle," mumbled Axel, but he sounded--_delighted. _A strange part of Demyx wondered that instant if Axel was even human, but he quickly banished such idiotic thoughts. Of _course _Axel was human. He was just callous. To him, it didn't matter that three young lives had been cut tragically short. All that mattered was that they were close to their quarry...

"Close," mumbled Demyx dryly, seizing on this thought with the desperation of a drowning man clinging on to a lifeline. "Close, it must be close--"

"Not _must be," _said Axel, his tone scathing. "It _is. _What the fuck are you waiting for, Dems? Get out your weapon. Let's go."

He started forward, clearly prepared to just stomp right through the poor dead kids. Demyx held out a hand, wanting to stop Axel--but Providence answered him in the form of a scream, high with terror, shattering the silence of the night sky.

"The fuck--?" Axel whirled around, his coat flying, clutching one of his guns tightly. "It came--_that _way! The roofs. C'mon, Dems!"

Demyx had no time to think. Now, all conscious thought had been banished from his mind, replaced only by pure animal instinct, by adrenaline racing through his veins and causing his heart to slam against his ribcage at a hundred twenty beats per minute. He didn't think twice about scampering after Axel up a rickety fire escape, towards the roof of the building--

An answering scream, but not quite a scream--more like a roar, a deep and guttural roar that shook Demyx's bones and rang with familiarity. It was a sound he knew all too well--the sound of an angry vampire.

He doubled his speed, following Axel across the roof so quickly he felt like he was flying. The two slayers leapt from roof to roof with reflexes born from years of training, their guns drawn, their coats flapping in the wind. The roars rose in volume--so did the screams--but they sounded different, no longer high-pitched hysterical shrieks of terror, but sounding more like bellows and snarls, like the victim was fighting for his life, running on nothing but his animal instincts--

And then they cleared another roof, and saw the vampire.

The vampire stood tall and strong on the opposite end of the roof, its ragged clothes stained dark with blood, roaring and snarling all the while it descended on its victim. The victim was a boy who appeared to be in his mid-teens, scampering backwards across the roof, clutching a length of lead pipe in a shaking hand. His clothes were torn and bloodied, but Demyx instinctively knew it wasnt the boy's own blood, and his eyes were huge with horror.

But he was fighting. As the vampire lunged at him, its blood-stained claws gleaming, the boy lashed out with the pipe and hit the vampire on the arm. The vampire bellowed, sounding less hurt than annoyed, and its pasty face twisted into an unpleasant snarl, saliva and blood dripping from its fangs. It tried to grab the boy again, but he rolled out of the vampire's way and again swung the pipe, catching the vampire's ankle. The vampire stumbled but did not fall, and unleashed a roar of not just bloodlust but frustration, a roar that seemed to cause the clouds themselves to tremble.

The boy's face was whiter than Demyx thought humanly possible, his lips trembling soundlessly, but he still clutched his pipe with a fierce resolve--even as the vampire backed him to the very edge of the roof. He didn't seem to notice where he was at first, still focused on only defending himself, but then he glanced down--and his eyes became even wider.

A sudden, overpowering feeling of deja vu struck Demyx that moment. It was just like _that _time, more than twelve years ago--when he'd teetered at the roof of a tenement building and had been forced to choose between death by falling or death by vampire. He'd ultimately chosen to fall, but had been saved from death entirely by the slayer, redhaired and smirking, standing beside him--

Two shots rang out, their sound reverberating in the still air and overcoming even the vampire's roars. The vampire stood where it was for a moment, its every limb trembling, two bright round spots of red standing out on its back. Then, slowly, it turned around to face Axel and Demyx.

The vampire's snarl became even more feral, if possible--it had recognized the greater threat posed by the two slayers. Demyx felt no fear as he met the vampire's dark and soulless eyes--only the rush of adrenaline he felt whenever he embarked on a kill. This vampire wasn't so tough. It was just another one of the mindless monsters, slave to its overpowering urge to drink blood, who prowled the streets at night and had enough conscious thoughts to fill a teacup. So Demyx found it all too easy to lift his gun--and fire.

He fired at the same time that Axel did, and both of their shots sought the same target--the vampire's heart. The vampire didn't stand a chance. For a moment, a look of near-surprise came over its pallid face, but by the time it had registered what had happened it was too late. The vampire let out a great, sighing exhalation, and then slumped to the floor, hitting the roof with a bang several times too loud for its size. It did not get up.

"Burn, baby," said Axel quietly, as he always did after a kill.

The two slayers stood where they were, side-by-side, watching the vampire's fallen corpse, for several seconds that dragged on into an eternity. Then, with a cough, Axel sheathed his gun, pulled away from Demyx, and strode across the roof, his steps ringing loud in the suddenly-silent night--heading straight towards the boy.

Demyx had almost forgotten about the boy, so caught up in the thrill of the kill he'd been. Now he cast a glance over at the boy, crouched near the edge of the roof and staring at the dead vampire with a transfixed and disbelieving expression on his face. He was young, even younger than Demyx had thought--maybe no more than fifteen. His hair was a messy and blonde halo above brilliant blue eyes, his face streaked with dirt and blood. He was trembling, the lead pipe dangling loosely from his hand tapping with an erratic rhythm on the surface of the roof.

The poor boy--he was probably traumatized for life. Demyx doubted that anyone who'd escaped a vampire attack so narrowly could ever be sane again. Which put in question his _own _sanity, but...

Axel approached the boy slowly, with a caution that was almost--_gentleness. _Not that Axel _could _ever be gentle... The boy tried backing off when he saw Axel heading towards him--perhaps thinking _Axel _would hurt him too--but Axel stopped several paces before the boy, and held out his hand in a beckoning gesture.

"Hey there," he said, his voice low but friendly. "Looks like you need some help, huh?"

What the _hell! _This was the kindest Demyx had ever seen Axel behave. Once more, he was wildly reminded of _that _night, of Axel stopping before _him _and holding his hand out...

The boy seemed to struggle to find his words, shaking his head and moving his lips without any noise. At length, he managed in a cracked voice, "Th--thank--you--"

"No problem," said Axel, still acting irrationally kind, and he took a step closer to the point. "Can you stand? Here--I'll help you--" The boy accepted Axel's hand, and Axel helped haul him up to a standing position. He was trembling so badly, though, that he seemed ready to fall over again.

"I'm Axel," said Axel. "He's Demyx." He jerked his thumb behind him, in Demyx's direction, and Demyx nodded in acknowledgment. "We're vampire slayers."

"I--" The boy's throat seemed stuck; he coughed to clear it. "I--I can--I can _see _that."

"Ha ha ha." Axel laughed, but it was not one of his sardonic chuckles--it was a dry laugh, a gentle and sympathetic one. Demyx's head had begun to spun; why was Axel _acting _so odd? "You're lucky we were here."

"Yeah...I guess...I _am _lucky..." said the boy. Words were coming more quickly to him, and his voice was steadily becoming more natural, less hoarse and cracked. He took a shaking step forward, and Axel encouraged him with a smile. "Thanks...both of you..."

"No need," replied both Axel and Demyx automatically. They had rarely ever saved people from killings, but whenever they did they responed by proper slayer etiquette--denying the need for thanks, denying any payment. Not that the boy in torn and ragged clothes was _going _to pay them...

"So what's your name?" said Axel, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and guiding him towards where Demyx stood. Axel was, Demyx noticed, making sure to keep a wide berth from the vampire's corpse. Again, being unusually thoughtful...

"R...Roxas," said the boy. "And, uh...nice to meet you..."

"Ha, yeah," said Axel, laughing again, but again it was that oddly good-natured and out of character laugh. "But hey, you weren't doing so bad yourself. I mean, _fighting _the vampire? Most victims just scream and run or shut down completely. But you...you were putting up a pretty good fight."

"Wh--what? Really?" Roxas flushed slightly pink underneath the dirt and blood. "I don't--I didn't--I was just...he..._it_..." An extra note of fury suddenly entered his voice. "It k--it _killed _my friends. Hayner...Pence...Olette...I just wanted a little..." He scuffed the roof with his shoe, and seemed to be glaring at something intangible, something in the distance. "..._payback."_

"Your friends?" said Demyx, remembering the three mangled corpses they'd discovered earlier.

Roxas turned to face Demyx, looking slightly surprised--this was the first time Demyx had spoken to him. But then he composed his expression again and said, the slight hint of anger still to his voice, "Yeah. It--I saw what it did and I--I just wanted to--I wanted to _kill _it." A violent shudder coursed through his body at those words, and he had to turn away for a second to compose himself. "I really did. I just--I wanted to hurt it so that it wouldn't hurt me again. Wouldn't ever hurt anyone again."

When he was finished, he glared off to the side.

"And you were gonna do it with this?" Axel, Demyx noticed, had picked up the length of lead pipe Roxas had been using as a weapon. He twirled it in his hands, examining it intently. "Tough luck, kiddo. Lead won't even slow a vampire down. Only silver can stop a vampire."

Demyx didn't know why he felt so relieved to hear the old, familiar, patronizing teacherly tone back in Axel's voice. Roxas, for his part, whirled around to face Axel, his eyes wide and expression eager.

"Then--then will--then would it be all right if--would you teach me to be a vampire slayer?"

Demyx took a step back, shocked--not just by the proposal, but by the complete, dead earnestness burning in Roxas's eyes as he spoke. He'd _never _seen that kind of seriousness before...no, he'd seen it, but only in Axel's eyes before Axel committed a kill, and even rarer, on his own face in the mirror before he set off on a hunt...

The seriousness of a hunter.

Axel, too, seemed startled, but only for an instant. He quickly composed himself, straightened his shoulders, and met Roxas's gaze, with just as much earnestness--though a little more jocularity--shining in his eyes. "Do you really mean it?"

"Yes!" shouted Roxas, the word cracking like a whip across the silence. "That--that _monster_--it killed my friends! It almost killed _me! _I want--if I become a slayer--I want to make sure these monsters don't ever hurt anyone again. That's why I--and I can only do that if I'm a vampire slayer!"

The words were raw with pain, burning with rage-from-sorrow--and entirely _earnest. _Roxas meant everything he said. This startled Demyx beyond anything--he had never yet met a slayer who actually did it for the express purpose of keeping the streets safe, even though that _was _what their job was supposed to be about.

But Roxas didn't want the job for glory, for money, for fun, or out of obligation. He wanted it because he truly wanted to _protect _people.

It was, Demyx supposed, noble in a way.

If Axel felt any of Demyx's surprise, he wasn't showing it. He was surveying Roxas dispassionately, his hands in his pockets, head tilted. At length, he spoke: "It's not easy."

"I know--I _know _it isn't," said Roxas, his words fierce.

"You can't just swing a pipe at a vampire and expect it to crumble to dust. You've got to _train. _Train your body, your mind. It will take years, and it will be _immensely _difficult," continued Axel, his words still as level as before.

"I know, I know," said Roxas, his words tripping over each other and sharp with frustration. "I _know! _And I'm willing. I'm willing to do all that. I don't know how to--how to fight now. _But I want to learn! _If I learn--I'll be able to fight--won't I?"

His voice rose and shook near-hysterically--and then he fell silent. He never once removed his eyes from Axel's face, his jaw set, his eyes fierce. Roxas's intent was more than clear--he was going to stand there for as long as it took for Axel to give him an answer. An answer in the _affirmative._

"Hmm...that _is _a very good point," said Axel, folding his arms and returning Roxas's gaze just as steadily. "But--are you _serious _about this? Because if you are, kiddo...there's no turning back. You know you don't have to do this, that you can just go back to your ordinary life and--"

"Like hell I can!" shouted back Roxas, balling his hands into fists. "I haven't got anywhere to go back to! Hayner--Pence--Olette--my friends are all _dead! _There's no way I can go--I can go _anywhere."_

With a flash of sympathy, Demyx realized he understood what Roxas was talking about. The boy was a stray, cast away from any home or family, with only his three friends to depend on, to guide him. And now that they were gone...he had no place to return to. Just as Demyx hadn't.

"Axel..." he began, wanting to put in a good word for Roxas. Axel, however, stopped him before he could continue.

"Be quiet, Dems, I'm thinking," he said--not rudely, but in a teacher's quiet command. He then turned back to Roxas. "You're serious."

"I am," said Roxas fiercely.

"All right, then," said Axel with a sigh, shaking his head in a resigned--but mischeivous--way. "I guess I don't have a choice...and you know, I'd really love to have a student again."

_As if you _haven't _stopped treating me like your student, _thought Demyx darkly, but Roxas's reaction was just the opposite--his entire face lit up, and for the first time he smiled. Not a real smile, just a faint upward pull on the corners of his lips, but it was enough, and both Demyx and Axel saw it. It was amazing how much that tiny little smile made Roxas's face light up, made him look so much younger...

"You'd really--" choked out Roxas, sounding overcome. He had started swaying again, and seemed dangerously close to falling. The adrenaline that had been keeping him steady must have been wearing off. "I'd really be--"

"Yeah," said Axel, and then he turned to Demyx, still smiling. "So? What d'you say, Dems? Shall we take in another in our house?"

_Our _house, Axel had said. He really _was _in a good mood. Demyx decided to take advantage of this anomalous good mood for as long as it lasted, and jerked his head in a nod.

"Yeah, sure. I'd be more than glad to have you in--our house," said Demyx, flashing Axel a smile that Roxas returned weakly. What--_he _wouldn't mind Roxas's presence. It'd be interesting, seeing as Roxas was almost exactly as Demyx had been when Axel had taken him in...though a little older.

And there was something about the way Axel was smiling at Roxas...at the almost-gentle way he was speaking to Roxas...it was nothing like the way Axel had treated Demyx. Demyx wondered if that bothered him, and wondered if the faint unpleasant feeling churning in his stomach was because of _that, _or...or something else, like his lunch. But why _should _he be bothered? It didn't matter...Axel was just his friend, his former-teacher, and now his landlord, apparently. He was--

_--nothing _else.

The churning sensation increased. Demyx decided to distract himself from it--or make it even worse for some arcane reason, he didn't know--by striding around Axel and Roxas towards the vampire corpse. The smell of blood rose in fumes from the body, and he had to hold his nose to prevent it from sending his stomach into spasms. He reached out a foot to turn the corpse over, so that it was face-up, and then fumbled one-handed in his coat pockets, searching for the larger of his two silver-edged knives--he found it, and then knelt down by the corpse (removing his hand from his nose because he needed it; he just made sure not to inhale), and started working on slicing its head off. They'd need to present it to the slayer's office as official proof of the kill.

"Hey, you're taking the intiative, Dems?" called Axel from across the roof, his tone joking. Demyx cast a brief backwards glance at Axel and Roxas--to see that Roxas was now shaking so badly that he had to slump against Axel for support. Axel, helping Roxas along, had draped his arm over Roxas's shoulder. A charitable thing to do, Demyx suppposed...

But since when had _Axel _been one for "charitable"? Again, that disquieting churning sensation...Demyx sighed, and worked harder on severing the vampire's head. The blood fumes were probably getting to him, making him think weird thoughts and making his stomach upset.

When Demyx was done, he shoved the vampire's head into a plastic bag he'd kept folded inside one of his inner pockets, and headed back to Axel. His stomach was cramping, doing all sorts of uncomfortable twists and turns. These, he could genuinely chalk up to smelling the blood.

"Thanks, I'll take that," said Axel, snatching the bag without ceremony from Demyx. Roxas's eyes flickered over to the bag.

"We're to take this as proof of kill to the slayers' office," explained Axel to Roxas, once more in his "teacher voice". He was having all too much fun doing this... "Normally, we'd keep hunting through the entire night..."

"'Normally'?" said Demyx, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, _normally," _said Axel, tightening his grip around Roxas's shoulders--churn, churn. "But you know, I figure you're liable to pass out any second now, huh, _student? _So I guess we'd better get home."

"Home," mumbled Roxas. He seemed half-asleep, but even half-asleep, when he said "home" it sounded like he was trying out a foreign word, one he had never used before in his life. Demyx felt a slight twinge of pity for the boy, which was an odd sensation indeed when mixed with the angry churning in his stomach.

"Yeah, home," echoed Axel, and he started for the roof's fire escape, one arm around Roxas and the other clutching the bag with the vampire's head in it. Demyx followed a split second later, and together the two slayers, and the boy-to-be-student, slipped through the dark alleyways of the tenements, heading towards Axel's villa. Towards--_home._

It wasn't, the slayer reflected, too hard thinking about Axel's place as his home now.

* * *

Ha ha ha...yeah, I'm aware I need to be castigated for I did to Hayner, Pence, and Olette. Even _I _feel that was a bit excessive and evil...but hey, it gives Roxas plenty of motive to really _hate _vampires. It gives _you _all motive, of course, to hate _me. _But no flames, por favor.

To distract yourselves from your anger at me, I promise you that the next chapter, "Mastery", will contain all sorts of AkuZeku and Zemyx goodness--even two sex scenes in quick succession! I'm really nervous but I feel like I'm bad at writing dirty scenes, so we'll see...anyway, take a look at the preview:

_And as much as Demyx tried to deny it, as much as he fought against the knowledge--he was succeeding. He was mastering Zexion. He didn't like to think of it that way...because truth be told, Demyx liked Zexion. It was strange for a slayer to be thinking of "liking" a vampire, but he did. He liked Zexion's sardonic and dry personality, his aloof indifference, his confident seductiveness. True, the last two times Demyx had experienced Zexion--the real Zexion--the vampire had tried taking advantage of him, but that was Demyx's fault for being stupid and unobservant._

See? Zemyx-y goodness!

Anyway, make sure to send a review if you read this, even if it's just to scream at me for killing Hayner, Pence, and Olette. I take all responsibility. But review!


	5. Mastery

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_5. Mastery_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), NONCON, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Another chapter you'll probably all hate me for, particularly given Demyx's behavior in this chapter. I tried to make it understandable, but yeah...what else can you expect of a chapter called "Mastery"?

Anyway, this chapter picks up on the "mastery" angle first introduced at the end of chapter three. It's long, but it has two sex scenes (rape scenes, really...) in quick succession so it shouldn't be too boring.

Also, I'd like to note that this chapter marks the halfway point of the first part. I don't think I've stated this before, but this story will be divided into three parts of ten chapters each. Yeah, a _highly _ambitious project, but I have the entire thing plotted out surprisingly well and I'm actually confident I'll be able to carry it out.

Keep the reviews coming! They're like manna to me; they really are. Cheesy but it's true.

* * *

Saunders was not particularly happy about Roxas's arrival--to him, it meant one more "ragamuffin" to tromp mud around the house, one more person he'd have to clean up after. Demyx found it wasn't hard to ignore Saunders, though, and Axel also ignored Saunders with something close to maniacal cheerfulness. Sometimes Demyx wondered why Saunders was even still working for Axel, given that Axel made it so unpleasant--but then realized that _money _probably spoke much louder than working conditions.

Barring Saunders, though, Roxas had adjusted to life within Axel's household quite well. That first night, he'd been dead asleep by the time the three had arrived home, so Axel had carried him to one of his multiple guest rooms (one of which Demyx was staying in), and put Roxas to rest there. When Roxas had awoken, he had done little besides following Axel everywhere, staring at his opulent surroundings with wide, disbelieving eyes. He seemed to be in a stupor of sorts--but it was entirely understandable. Demyx had felt similarly overwhelmed the first time Axel had showed him around his family's manor. And _that _manor had been much grander, and Demyx had been much younger--only seven. He was surprised he hadn't just passed out from the sheer _dissonance _of it all, how different it was from his previous life...

But he'd adjusted, and so had Roxas. Within days, Roxas was up and alert at sunset, running outside in the courtyard and training. At first Axel had complained bitterly about having to wake up so early, but soon became infected by Roxas's own eagerness and pleased in Roxas's enthusiasm, and directed nearly all of his energies into training Roxas. So much so that he and Demyx no longer had time to hunt, but Demyx didn't mind. Roxas's training was more important at the moment.

And Roxas--Demyx couldn't deny it. The kid was a _great _student. He threw himself into his training with a wild, desperate fervor, never once complaining or begrudging having to practice the same stabbing technique over and over again (for Axel, despite his antipathy towards stakes, still taught the standard stake-fighting techniques first), or sitting in Axel's study memorizing long lists of vampire facts. And even outside of Axel's guidance, he studied. Long after Axel retreated upstairs to take care of "personal business", Roxas would remain in the courtyard, doggedly practicing maneuvers; and when he went back inside he would retreat to Axel's private library and intently peruse tome after dusty tome about vampire lore. Sometimes, he even fell asleep in the library, his head slumped over the latest book he'd been reading. Then, Axel would pick Roxas up and carry him back to his room, taking the book with him.

"He's great," said Axel one night after he'd done just that, stepping lightly out of Roxas's room and shutting the door behind him. "He really is. I mean--I guess it's different because you were younger and I wasn't that much older than you--but he really..."

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words to say. Which was odd because Axel was _never _at a loss for words--but Demyx knew why this time. And in the strangest way, it touched him. He didn't let any of that show, though, straightening his shoulders and said to Axel, "Look, it doesn't matter...I understand. I wasn't that great a student..."

"No, no! You _were," _said Axel, holding up his hands for peace. "It's just that Roxas is....he's so _enthusiastic _about it all. He really--he really lives, eats, and _breathes _it. I mean, to you it was only ever a job. Right?"

Demyx nodded the affirmative.

"But to Roxas..." continued Axel, shaking his head in bemused wonder. "To Roxas it's a _way of life. _And I guess--that's a really noble way to think about it. He's an even better student than _I _ever was."

"Uh-huh," said Demyx. They continued trekking down the stairs, both walking slowly, but with a steady purpose. They both knew exactly where they were going.

"But hey! You're not a bad student either," said Axel, and he cracked a huge grin. "You're learning quickly with the whole _mastery _deal..."

Demyx returned Axel's grin, but inside his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. How, he wondered, could he tell Axel...the _truth?_

* * *

The "mastering" lessons had begun the night after Roxas had first joined them.

Axel was doing a surprisingly good job at keeping the lessons a secret from Roxas. Not Zexion's presence--he'd let Roxas knew about Zexion on the second day of the boy's apprenticeship. Roxas had exchanged a few words with Zexion, but they were awkward and brief, and he never again brought up the subject. Demyx could only suppose that Roxas just considered Zexion one of his teacher's eccentricities, and chose not to speak about it.

Which made it easier to hide the _other _lessons, the ones that Axel weren't teaching Roxas and probably never would. He excused them as "personal business", and left Roxas to his training every night. Roxas didn't mind because he was just as eager a student on his own as with Axel, and was so engrossed in his drills or reading that he never stopped to think about what Axel was doing during these "personal times". Not to mention that Axel had soundproofed his room long ago (a fact that Demyx thought was creepy, but normal for Axel)...

Demyx had been jumpy all throughout the first lesson. He stood in Axel's room, shifting nervously from foot-to-foot, waiting for the redhead to return--with his "pet". To pass time, he swept his eyes around Axel's room, trying to memorize every detail (_Got it memorized? _smirked Axel in his head), but they flowed out of his head like water. The walls were brown--no beige--no--_pink? _The floor had a carpet but he couldn't make out its color let alone its pattern, and the bed--it had a bunch of pillows, right, but were they embroidered with birds or butterflies? Or nothing? His head was reeling, his stomach giving violent jolts.

A tiny and very nasty part of Demyx wondered if he wasn't suffering from stomach flu, given the state of his abdomen these past few days. He banished these stupid, facetious thoughts, however. He wasn't sick. He just--

Wasn't sure if he was ready to face Zexion again. Wasn't sure he'd _ever _be able to face Zexion again, after that fiasco in the dungeon.

_Ha, and _this _is how you're going to master him? _continued that nasty voice. Demyx shook his head to banish it--and then started wondering if he even _wanted _to master Zexion in the first place.

Thankfully, he didn't get that far with these thoughts when the door to the room swung open, and Axel entered--leading Zexion behind him.

Demyx was surprised by how..._different_...Zexion seemed. For one thing, he was no longer wearing the torn and soiled turtleneck and slacks, but a plain white button-down shirt and gray slacks. But it wasn't just his clothes. Everything--_everything_--was different. The way he was holding himself, not with bored disdain as he had with Demyx, but with his head bowed, his movements uncertain. The way he kept his eyes firmly to the ground...the perfect neutrality of his expression. Demyx just couldn't reconcile the silent, deferent boy in front of him with the same smirking, confident incubus who'd seduced him so successfully just the other day.

The instant Axel and Zexion entered the room, Axel said, his voice ringing with the harsh authority of a command, "On to the bed."

Zexion didn't hesitate to obey. As soon as Axel released the chain attached to his wrist cuff, the vampire crossed the room in three smooth, graceful strides, and dropped face-down on the bed, his eyes closed, his arms by his side. Almost like he was sleeping, but his every muscle was tensed--he was waiting, waiting for Axel and Demyx to...

To _master _him. Demyx swallowed the word down in his throat. Once more, it felt dry and bitter, and he had to fight to force it down.

"Hey. Look up," said Axel, his voice lower but still commanding. He knelt by the bed and cupped Zexion's bandaged cheek in one hand. The vampire cracked a dark blue eye open, his expression still flat and emotionless. "Like that. Now--remember what you did the other day?"

"Yes, Master," said Zexion, his voice barely above a low murmur, his words flat and clipped. Axel tugged gently on a few strands of Zexion's slate-colored hair.

"Tell me." Again, his voice rang with authority.

"I--I--did a very bad thing, Master," said Zexion, so quietly that Demyx had to strain to hear him. "I--I tricked Demyx. I seduced him. I was bad."

He said the words with absolutely no inflection, almost as if he was reciting a list. As if he was reciting from a _script. _Demyx felt both disquieted and heartened at this revelation--though he was at a complete loss for _why._

"Damn right you were," said Axel derisively. "Now, my little monster--open your eyes. Sit up. Look Demyx in the eye, and tell him you're sorry. Won't you?" Another pull on the hair, harder this time.

"Yes, Master." An inflectionless murmur, and then in a single fluid motion the vampire pulled himself up into a sitting position--and met Demyx's eyes. Demyx took a step backwards, startled. Startled, again, by the change that had come over Zexion--his dark blue eyes were perfectly blank, revealing no emotion, revealing _nothing. _There was none of the sadistic confidence, none of the smirking good humor, in those eyes...and that...

That _definitely _disquieted Demyx.

"Demyx," said Zexion, and his voice was so flat it took Demyx a moment to realize Zexion had just addressed him. "I am very sorry for what I did to you. It was wrong of me. I should not have done that and I deserve to be punished for it. I hope you will show me all the mercy I deserve in your punishment tonight."

He had never sounded more like he was reciting from a script--he wasn't even bothering to _pretend _at putting emotion and inflection into the words. Such words would have bothered Demyx on any level, but Zexion's flat recitation caused them to lose any meaning they might have had.

It didn't mean that Demyx _wasn't _still bothered, though. Immediately, without thinking much as to exactly _what _he was saying, he held up his hands and said in quick rush, "No, no, no, you don't have to apologize--I mean, that was as much _my _fault as yours--I was a big fucking idiot and I'm--"

Axel rudely cut in before Demyx could say "sorry". "Aww, shut it, Dems. How the hell do you hope to _master _him if you're gonna be stammering apologies left and right, huh?"

"Er--" Demyx felt his face burn, and he lowered his hands back to his sides, trying to ignore the sudden intensity of Zexion's scrutiny of him--the vampire had let the slightest, just the _slightest, _bit of surprise widen his eyes... "Uh..." He felt the urge to apologize again, but didn't know to whom, so he kept silent.

"All right, _anyway, _monster," said Axel, giving the chain on Zexion's cuff a hard yank, "you know what to do. Face down, on the bed. Take whatever you're given. Any and all forms of protest will be swiftly punished. But this is old hat to you, isn't it?"

The vampire blinked and looked away from Demyx, and lowered his head in deference to Axel. "Yes, Master."

"Good boy," said Axel, just as tonelessly as Zexion. Another tug on the chain. "Face down."

Zexion obeyed without further prompting, lying face down on the bed again. Axel smirked and prodded Zexion in the small of the back; Zexion hardly reacted to the gesture.

"Now, Demyx," said Axel, resting his hand on Zexion's head, sinking his fingers into the vampire's silky slate-blue hair. "Ready to learn? 'Cause I know _I'm _sure as hell ready to teach." Sure enough--he _was. _He had started unzipping his pants and unbuckling his belt.

"Uh, yeah," said Demyx with an awkward cough, suddenly feeling very much the voyeur. What the hell was he _doing, _watching his former-teacher have sex with a vampire? _Not "have sex", _he reminded himself. _Master__._

Axel reached under Zexion's stomach--Zexion shifted to give Axel more room--and from the sounds of it was now unzipping Zexion's pants as well. All the while, the slayer spoke, his voice falling into the familiar cadences of a lecturing teacher. "You have to make sure you subsume him completely. In mind, body, spirit. Heart, soul. Make sure he _lives _for you. That _you _are all that's left of his universe, and he has to _depend _on you. Do you understand?"

"Sure," said Demyx, though this was all so very metaphorical and he couldn't see what it had to do with sex.

"Like hell you do," snorted Axel, seeing past Demyx's flimsy lies. "Look--you've got to _dominate _him. Screw if _he _enjoys it. If he does that's just a minor plus. Make sure _you _enjoy it. He exists for nothing besides fulfilling _you."_

"Uh-huh." Demyx jerked his head in a nod. This was starting to make more sense...but he didn't like Axel's phrasing. It all seemed so very--harsh. So very _wrong. _Again, the bitter taste of _master _on the back of his throat.

"You have to make sure he defers one hundred percent to you. If he doesn't--if he even has a _speck _of individual will--it's over," continued Axel, seizing the waistband of Zexion's pants and pulling them down in a single swift motion, revealing all that Zexion had to offer. Demyx couldn't help it--his heartbeat quickened, and he took a step closer.

"But I suppose I should stop telling you _what _you want, and start telling you _how _to get there," said Axel, climbing on top of Zexion as he freed his member from the confines of his pants. It took all of Demyx's effort to keep from whistling in appreciation--Axel was _stiff, _and pulsing, nearly fully-erect. He setled for a nervous giggle instead, which Axel ignored.

"It starts with _you, _not _him, _seeing as he's going to be rather..._noncompliant_...at the start," Axel went on, his tone still perfectly academic, not seeming to care at all about what..._Demyx _was staring at. He bent down over Zexion and ran his fingers through the vampire's hair, prompting a slight shiver from Zexion. "_You _have to believe that you're capable of this. That you are better than him. Stronger, smarter, abler. That _you _will be able to dominate him. Believe in your own strength, and then subduing _his _strength won't be so hard."

_Stronger, smarter, abler..._Demyx swallowed dryly. He was quite sure he was none of those things. Not stronger and abler because he was human and Zexion was a vampire; and not smarter because, well, he just wasn't _smart. _

"He does have tricks at his disposal--but they're just that. _Tricks. _You can break through them. They're shallow. _Illusions. _Remember that. _Everything _he shows you--it's false, it's just screwing with your mind. Well, you can rise about that. Remember that you have _strength _on your side, which he does not. If he disobeys..." Axel was now poised right over Zexion's entrance, his cock throbbing, and obviously prepared to tear straight through the vampire beneath him, regardless of Zexion's own comfort. "_...hurt him. _Make him feel _pain."_

He thrust his hips back, obviously prepared to enter Zexion--but Zexion suddenly unleashed a sound that was halfway between a cough and a whimper. Axel frowned at Zexion through half-closed eyes, looking impatient.

"Yeah? Speak, monster, if you've got something to say."

"Master--I was just--I was wondering if--" began Zexion, his voice low, hesitant. But there was _emotion _to it. For the first time he didn't sound like he was reading off a script.

"If _what?" _Axel's voice was biting and impatient, but he held back from thrusting into Zexion anyway. "Hurry the fuck up."

"If you could--if you could please--_prepare _me? Master?" Even more hesitance, but the faint hint of something--_else_--had slipped into Zexion's voice. Something almost akin to...defiance? It was very faint, but it was there.

"What the fuck?" said Axel, and his entire face darkened--he must have sensed the tiny level of defiance in Zexion's voice as well. Demyx's heart started racing as he wondered what Axel was going to do--

But he didn't have to wonder for much longer. The next instant, quick as a viper striking, Axel drew his arm back and hit Zexion, hard, across the face. The vampire let out a hiss of pain and fell, with a muffled thump, back on to the bed. He turned away from Demyx so that Demyx couldn't see his face, but then Axel snatched a fistful of Zexion's hair and jerked the vampire's head up, so they were eye-to-eye. A thin trickle of blood was running from the side of Zexion's mouth, but he didn't seem to care--his expression had returned to that flat neutrality.

"Little bitch," said Axel in a low, angry hiss. "Do you really think you _deserve _any gentleness--?" Then, turning to Demyx, he continued in the familiar lecturing tone, "If he disobeys, _punish him. _Hit him as hard as you can. Make sure it _hurts. _Got it memorized?" With that, he released his grip on Zexion's hair, and the vampire fell back down to the submissive, face-down position.

Demyx nodded quickly, though he couldn't dismiss the growing apprehension stirring in his stomach (_not _flu...). _Hit him..._but could he? Could he stand to mar Zexion's delicate beauty like that? Again, he remembered the cuts, gashes, and bruises all over Zexion's pale body, and he shuddered.

"But since you asked so nicely," said Axel, now addressing Zexion, "I suppose it's fair I should reward you. Even if you don't deserve it...but whatever. C'mon. Suck, and watch it with the fangs, monster. You know the saying that 'there's always more where that came from'..."

As Axel insipidly blathered, he had slipped three fingers into Zexion's mouth. Zexion leaned forward with something almost like desperation, sucking intently on Axel's fingers and coating them thoroughly with his saliva. Axel drew his fingers away after about a minute, smiling a quiet and insidious smirk as he examined his now slick fingers.

"Sometimes," he said, now speaking to Demyx, "it's better to indulge him once in a while. Builds his trust in you, doesn't it?" He tugged playfully on Zexion's chain.

Much to Demyx's surprise, Zexion responded to this, turning around slightly to cast Axel a brief but intent glance. "Believe me, Master, I can trust you." His voice was low, hoarse, barely about a whisper.

"Hmm?" Axel frowned at Zexion, but he looked more curious than annoyed. "I'm sure you can. Spread your legs a little more--that's good. You ready?"

This wasn't addressed at Zexion, but at Demyx. Demyx was starting to feel _very _queasy now, and he couldn't quite say why--no, _he _knew why, it was because he didn't _want _to do this but now it was too late and there was no way he could back down now--so all he could do was nod, slowly, once, twice.

"Good." With that, Axel turned back to Zexion, submissively face-down on the bed and legs spread, but he was clutching the sheets so tightly his knuckles were white and he was trembling, almost imperceptibly, but Demyx noticed. Again, his stomach lurched, but what could _he _do? He could only watch as Axel stroked the rim of Zexion's entrance, with a tenderness that caused both Zexion and Demyx to shudder (although, Demyx felt, for different reasons)--and then slid a finger inside Zexion.

Zexion tensed at the gesture, prompting a low chuckle from Axel. "How's it feel, little monster?" he said in a low, sadistically-delighted whisper.

"It--ah--_c-cold_--Master--"

"Hey, you _asked _for it. Beggars can't be choosers," snapped Axel, and Demyx had to fight the sudden--and _very _incongruous--urge to giggle. Axel then slipped another finger inside Zexion's entrance, making sure to dig into the skin with his nails. Zexion let out a low hiss, which Axel responded to with another chuckle. "Hurts?"

"N-no Master." Zexion's voice was muffled, as he was burying his face into the sheets. "Ahhn--"

"Mm, you're tight," said Axel, slipping his third finger in. He had started scissoring his fingers, knifing them back and borth and seemingly enjoying exploring every inch of the vampire's tight confines. Zexion, for his part, was whimpering and writhing under Axel's ministrations, clutching the sheets so tightly his claws pierced through the mattress. He was flushed bright red, and seemed embarrassed in whatever pleasure he was feeling.

He was _nothing _like he'd been with Demyx, so confident and so superior as he seduced the slayer. Demyx couldn't help but shudder, wondering what Axel had _done _to get Zexion to defer to him so. Axel very clearly held all the reins here, and he was enjoying it, reveling in his power over the vampire. He had--_mastered_--Zexion.

_Can I ever do that? Do I _want _to do that?_

"Dominate, control," said Axel, sliding his fingers out of Zexion witha single smooth motion and wiping them dispassionately on Zexion's hip--covered with faded and splotchy bruises. Demyx gave an involuntary shudder again, realizing where those bruises most have come from... "_You're _the one in charge here, Dems. _Never forget that. _You cannot give him a _single _opening, you get it?"

"Uh huh," said Demyx, nodding dutifully.

"That's good," said Axel, though he sounded distracted. He turned back to Zexion, his intent more than clear. Demyx had to fight the urge to shudder again--_why? _Why was he so--disgusted? He had _wanted _to do this, he had _asked _for it...

And now he had no time to protest. For in that instant, Axel had seized Zexion by the hips (causing him to hiss as pressure was applied to his bruises), and with a single motion, with no ceremony or even warning, thrust deep inside the vampire.

"_Nghh--" _Zexion threw his head head back and unleashed a long groan of pain. "Master--_hurts_--"

"Like fucking _hell _it does," growled Axel through his teeth, tightening his grip on Zexion's hips as he thrust deeper in, not seeming to care at all for the vampire's comfort. Zexion hissed, squeezing his eyes shut, panting from pain. Blood had started dripping down his chin, and this, Demyx realized, was from biting his own lip.

He was refusing to give Axel the pleasure of seeing him scream.

"C'mon, cry," said Axel in a low murmur. He remained still for a moment, letting Zexion adjust to his length--but for only a second. The next instant, he pulled almost completely out of Zexion--and then thrust back in again. Zexion tensed, his entire body shuddering from the force of the motion, but continued biting his lip and digging his fingers into the mattress, stubbornly refusing to scream or cry.

_Axel, _Demyx realized with a sudden flash, _hasn't succeeded. He _hasn't _completely "mastered" Zexion._

In the strangest way, that thought made Demyx feel better.

Axel was now thrusting at a regular rhythm now, in and out, over and over again, stabbing deeper with each thrust. His fingers dug deeper into Zexion's bruised hips, drawing rivulets of blood that stood out darkly against the vampire's death-white skin. Axel was grunted regularly as he thrusted, and Zexion answered with little whimpers and groans and gasps of pain--but never a scream.

"Does it _hurt, _little bitch? Do you want it to _stop?" _hissed Axel, his voice so twisted by sadistic pleasure that Demyx could barely recognize it. Unbidden, he flashed back to the early days, back when Axel had been just a kid and had smiled so much more freely...

"Ngh--_damn--_M-Master--" gasped Zexion in response. "_Ahh! _Please--"

"Beg me as much as you like, _monster, _'cause you're not getting _anything," _growled Axel as he stabbed deeper than he ever had before--and then with a violent shudder and a string of foul words that made Demyx almost clamp his hands to his ears, he came. His essence splattered all over the sheets (blue, they're blue, Demyx thought inanely), and flowed forth from inside Zexion, staining the vampire's pale thighs. Axel thrust a few more times to ride out his orgasm, then pulled out, with just as rough of a motion as he'd first tore into Zexion with.

Zexion collapsed into a shivering heap on the bed, gasping like a man saved from drowning. Axel smirked and prodded Zexion on the small of his back, causing the vampire's entire body to convulse. Then, slowly, with an insidious smirk shining in his green eyes, Axel turned back to face Demyx. Demyx took a step back--he'd _never _seen such an expression on Axel's face before,never before--

"_That, _Dems," said Axel, his voice ringing with quiet satisfaction, "is how you do it. _That _is how you master a pureblood vampire. Am I right, my pretty little pet? Have I mastered you?"

"Yes Master." The response was instantaneous, flat, emotionless--but hid a faint hint of trembling.

"I...I see," said Demyx, shaking his head to clear it--although that didn't help with the tight clenching sensation in the pit of his abdomen. He didn't know why...he had _asked _for this but all he'd ended up feeling was disgust. Disgust in what he'd seen, disgust in _himself _for having seen it...

"Sure you do," said Axel with a low chuckle, sliding off the bed and zipping his pants again as he did so. "But as you very well know, I'm a teacher who's always believed in the power of hands-on learning."

"What?" Demyx felt the blood drain from his face, felt a sudden chill shoot up his spine. He_ knew _what Axel meant...

"C'mon. Try it. You just saw _me _do it, so I'm figuring you know how to do it yourself. Get on the bed and master the little bitch," said Axel, his voice ringing with the cold authority of a command. He gestured towards where Zexion lay shivering on the bed--but Zexion had now turned his attention towards Demyx, surveying him through an emotionless blue eye.

"Er--I dunno--kinda sudden, isn't it--?" began Demyx, but he didn't have a chance to protest before Axel seized him by the wrist and dragged him over to stand above Zexion. Demyx's knees bumped against the bed, and he cursed in his head--but all his attention was soon distracted from the pain in his knees to _Zexion. _The beautiful pale vampire, trembling beneath him, so thin and small and vulnerable in only his oversized shirt...and entirely against his will, Demyx felt his pants begin to tighten around the groin...

"Master--" Zexion threw a questioning look towards Axel. Axel pushed Zexion's head back down.

"Take whatever you're given, bitch. You know that."

"But Master--"

"Shut _up," _said Axel, tightening his grip on a few strands of Zexion's delicate slate-blue hair, and tugging. Zexion let out a low whimper of pain, but Axel responded by pulling even harder.

"Axel--" began Demyx, not sure what he wanted to say but feeling like he had to say _something. _This was going too far...but how could he back out without looking like more of a coward than Axel already thought he was? Not to mention the little problem he was beginning to experience "downstairs"...

"He's all yours, Dems," said Axel, climbing away from Zexion and taking a perch on the opposite side of the bed. He never once removed his bright green eyes from Demyx's face, and Demyx realized with a sudden, sharp feeling of foreboding that he _couldn't _escape. Not now. He'd already been captured by Axel, and there was no turning back now.

As if in a dream, Demyx saw himself clamber on to the bed, so that he was looming directly over Zexion. Zexion craned his neck so he could see Demyx--and Demyx stopped dead in his tracks. Pleading, hoping, begging, fear--all mingled in Zexion's deep blue eyes, a maelstrom of emotion that threatened to submerge Demyx entirely. He couldn't even remember how Zexion had been so dead and emotionless before...now all he saw was the wild terror, the desperate plea for mercy, shining in those eyes...

"Please--Demyx--you are kind--have _mercy_--" whispered the vampire, his voice low and hoarse and terrified. "_Please_--"

He _was. _He _was _almost about to take mercy on Zexion, and say "To hell with this!" and storm out of the room--but before he could, Axel yanked, hard, on the silver chain connecting to Zexion's wrist cuff. Zexion hissed as the cuff was dragged against his skin, leaving behind an angry red burn--and the spell was broken. Demyx sucked in a deep breath, feeling that his head had been cleared of a great fuzz. Of course, Zexion had just been using his powers, but now Demyx could think clearly and he...

He reached for Zexion's hips, digging his fingers into the pale skin now marred by heavy and dark bruises and beads of blood. The vampire hissed in pain, but Demyx ignored him--he was no longer thinking anymore. He'd been captured by his instincts, by the overwhelming desire stirring in his groin...

"Mercy--Demyx--" gasped Zexion, but now that he was no longer using his powers, the words were no longer an enchanting plea, but just pathetic and miserable attempts at begging. Demyx found, caught in the heat of the moment that he was, that it wasn't hard at all to just ignore Zexion's meaningless prattle.

"Good job, Dems. Master him. Control him. Make sure he doesn't get to use his powers," said Axel encouragingly from the sidelines. "You're doing great so far. Don't leave him any openings..."

Just as it was easy to tune out Zexion, it wasn't difficult to let Axel's sports-commentator-like encouragement fall on deaf ears, too. Demyx was now unzipping his own pants, prepared to enter the prone vampire before him just as Axel had done earlier...

"Demyx--I _know_--you don't have to--" stammered Zexion, an edge of desperation coloring his words. "Please don't--"

"I don't want to hurt you," said Demyx, the words popping out of his unthinking mind before he could quite figure out what he was saying. Both Axel and Zexion tensed, Axel letting out a low expletive.

"Then _stop _this," begged Zexion. He looked quite beautiful like that, with his bloodied lips trembling and his eyes wide and desperate and moist...

"I really don't," continued Demyx, still having no idea what he was saying.

"Then _stop_--"

"The fuck, Demyx," this was Axel, cutting in, "get to it already or I'll--"

"So please, try to enjoy this," concluded Demyx, and with that, he tightened his grip on Zexion's hips, lifted himself above the vampire's entrance--now somewhat wider after Axel's ministrations--and thrust in.

"_Demyx--!" _Zexion turned the name into a musical cry, a torn scream of agony beyond just the physical that reverberated throughout the entire room, setting Demyx's nerves on fire with a ferocious passion. "_Please_--!"

But Demyx was long past caring, long past even listening. All that mattered to him were his animal instincts, compelling him to thrust, up and down, in and out, over and over again with a punishing rhythm that would probably leave him aching tomorrow, but he didn't care--he was too caught up in the instincts, ignoring even that tiny vestige of a human voice, a conscience, beginning him to _stop, this was wrong, he was hurting Zexion_...

It was tight inside Zexion, and difficult to maneuver, but something about forcing his way through the warm tightness of Zexion's passage only excited Demyx more. A flood of sensations--some shameful, some delightful--swirled through his body: excitement, lust, control, delight, sheer undeniable pleasure. In a strange, detached way, he was reminded of _that _night, when Zexion had knelt and blew him with a masterful precision...but it was _different, _too, because the incubus wasn't in control this time.

Lost in his feverish pleasure, Demyx climbed further on top of the vampire, pressing more of his weight inside Zexion--he could hear Zexion hiss from the increased pain--now gripping the vampire's shoulders for leverage (though taking care to avoid the half-healed slashes on Zexion's shoulder). He felt Zexion tighten around him, and that devilish, animalistic part of him smiled inside when he realized that in _this _positon, he was almost completely filling the vampire. Strangely emboldened by that revelation, he thrust into Zexion harder than he'd ever before, feeling the tip of his erect cock slam into a tender spot deep within Zexion--

Zexion's entire body tensed at the gesture, and he let out a shuddering gasp--but it _wasn't_ one of pain. In the torn sound, in the tremor that coursed down the vampire's spine, there was something beyond pain, something almost akin to--

Demyx, even more emboldened, thrust harder and deeper, picking up his pace and taking care to hit that sweet spot with every downward thrust. He was nearing his release--he could feel it, burning not just in his loins but through every nerve--and Zexion, too, was shivering and gasping and convulsing every time Demyx slammed against his prostate, caught in the throes of unwilling pleasure.

Soon Demyx came, spilling his essence, white and gushing, all over the bed and Zexion as he thrust out of the vampire, his vision blanking out for a fraction of a second. He didn't curse, as Axel had when he'd climaxed, but let out a low groan alight with shaking pleasure--

"You're so _beautiful, _Zexion--"

"Nggh _damn you!" _was Zexion's only reply to this as he, too, convulsed and came. His seed streaked down his thighs, mingling with Demyx's and splattering on to the bed as well. The last of his tremors died down as Demyx pulled away from him, and he collapsed in a panting, furiously blushing heap on the bed. Demyx slowly pulled away and stood opposite Zexion, his head spinning, squeezing his eyes shut.

_What the hell had he just done?_

"Nhh...D-Demyx..." whispered Zexion. "Y-you fucking bastard..."

"Enjoyed it, huh?" But this wasn't Demyx speaking--it was Axel's voice, harsh but ablaze with a devilish satisfaction. "But I guess that's a kind of mastering too. Guess he really wasn't as much of a weakling as you _thought_, huh?"

"I--ahh--" Zexion took in a deep and shuddering breath, but said nothing more. Slowly, Demyx cracked open his eyes, to see--

The slate-haired vampire lay huddled amongst the blankets, his eyes tightly closed--but there was no hiding the tear streaks shining on his face. Demyx's heart gave a cold jolt--it was the first time he had _ever _seen Zexion cry. He had half a mind to comfort Zexion, but was frozen to the spot, unable to do anything besides sweep his eyes over the scene of devastation. Over the sticky semen--his and Zexion's--clinging to the vampire's thighs, staining the bed...to the dark bruises on Zexion's pale skin...to the tangled sheets, to Axel, sitting on the other end of the bed with a smirk on his face...

Demyx shook his head, trying to clear the infernal buzzing in his ears. He absently extended a hand and ran it down Zexion's cheek, wiping the tears away, taking in how soft the vampire's skin was--but how _cold _it was, too. Zexion shuddered, and slowly cracked one beautiful, moist blue eye open.

"H-how can you..." his voice was broken, too low to even call a whisper.

"Shh," replied Demyx in just as low a voice, running a hand through Zexion's soft, sweat-soaked hair--not tugging, like Axel had been earlier, but with infinite, gentle care. Zexion shuddered even more violently, and Demyx, recognizing what the vampire wanted, removed his hand and let it rest by his side. He didn't know why he was even being so kind, not after what he'd done (he averted his eyes, not wanting to see the damage he'd inflicted down _there_...but seeing it anyhow).

Perhaps he just wanted to purge himself. Purge himself from the cruelty that had possesed him, purge himself of the base animal instincts that had prompted him to do this...

"Good job, Dems." Demyx jumped, startled--he hadn't realized that Axel had walked right up next to him, and placed his hand on Demyx's shoulder. The touch caused Demyx to shudder for a reason he couldn't quite comprehend, and his stomach did flips. "You did it. I told you you could, didn't I--hell, you did it better than him; I've never been able to get him to enjoy sex before. So bravo there. You _mastered _him, Demyx."

_Mastered. _His throat fought against the word even as he tried it out soundlessly. Bitter, dry, harsh. A word that took all of Zexion's graceful beauty and locked it up, like a dried butterfly pinned and labeled in a box.

"Y...yeah," said Demyx, when he could get his throat working again, still tasting the bitter vestiges of the word in his mouth. "I guess...I guess I have..." Involuntarily, he fixed his eyes on Zexion, on the trembling vampire in the bed, his dignity stained and ruined--stained by Axel, _ruined _by Demyx.

"Same time, same place, tomorrow," continued Axel, oblivious to Demyx's whirling emotions. He patted Demyx on the back--not roughly, but with a surprising gentleness. Gentleness of the likes that Demyx hadn't experienced from Axel for the longest time... "You've started on the path but I've got a few more things to teach you. For now...go to sleep, Dems. I'll take him back to his cell."

"Uh...okay..." said Demyx, watching wordlessly as Axel crossed to the other side of the bed, and yanked, hard, on Zexion's chain. The vampire jolted to a standing position, though he was trembling so badly he could barely stand. Axel helped Zexion yank his pants back up, and then whirled around, not casting a backwards glance at the vampire stumbling after him. They both passed by Demyx as they headed to the door, and Demyx almost--_almost_--reached a hand out to grab Zexion and...and _what? _What could he do to make right everything he'd done?

"Night, Demyx," said Axel, opening the door and throwing Demyx a last brief, impish smile. "And--well done."

Axel's praise, which Demyx would have usually lived for, felt hollow and empty to him. All he could do was nod, feeling his stomach convulse, and said, "Yeah. Night to you too...both of you."

Axel said nothing more as he slipped out of the door. Zexion cast Demyx an unreadable glance as he left, but said nothing. The door clicked shut after the departing slayer and vampire, and Demyx was left alone in the room. Alone to his thoughts.

* * *

None of the subsequent lessons had been quite so bad as the first one. Slowly, Demyx's body had adjusted enough to pounding violently into Zexion to no longer care, to just do it and throw aside all misgivings and conscious thought and savor the sweet delight of forcing his way into Zexion's tight confines, of feeling Zexion writhe and whimper and then unwillingly come beneath him. Because no matter what Demyx did, no matter how rough he was--Zexion _always _came, with climaxes just as shuddering and intense as Demyx's.

On some sick level, Demyx thought that meant it was okay, that he could fuck Zexion however he wanted and it didn't matter. But no, he _knew _this was wrong...

He only ever felt good when he was actually inside Zexion, hitting the vampire's sweet spot over and over again and feeling him convulse in hateful pleasure beneath him. Most of the time, during the before, and the after, Demyx had to struggle to keep down his feelings of sickness, of misery and guilt. Axel never made it easy, either. He seemed to think that Demyx should enjoy the whole thing from beginning to end, and often smirked at Demyx and spoke of how well he was "mastering" Zexion.

_Mastering. _Bitterness. A pinned butterfly. A beautiful being, tainted forever.

And as much as Demyx tried to deny it, as much as he fought against the knowledge--he was _succeeding. _He _was _mastering Zexion. He didn't like to think of it that way...because truth be told, Demyx _liked _Zexion. It was strange for a slayer to be thinking of "liking" a vampire, but he _did. _He liked Zexion's sardonic and dry personality, his aloof indifference, his confident seductiveness. True, the last two times Demyx had experienced Zexion--the _real _Zexion--the vampire had tried taking advantage of him, but that was Demyx's fault for being stupid and unobservant.

But now...whenever he climbed on top of Zexion and--_mastered_--him, the vampire didn't protest, didn't try to persuade him not to with silky words, didn't smirk and say Demyx was too impotent to do anything or something along those lines. He wasn't quite as deferent as he was with Axel, sometimes speaking without being asked, but when he spoke his words were quiet and precise, and he always kept his gaze away from Demyx. He did whatever Demyx asked, somewhat grudgingly, but the fact was that he _obeyed. _He would lie still on the bed and wait, unprotesting, for Demyx to take him. Whenever Demyx came to deliver Zexion's blood meals to him, the vampire accepted them with a low "Thank you" and said nothing else. He didn't try to seduce Demyx, and he didn't try to say anything beyond answering Demyx's questions.

"You're well on your way, pupil," Axel would say, smirking widely. "Pretty soon he'll obey you as readily as he obeys me."

Was Demyx a bad student, a bad slayer, for thinking that he _didn't _want that?

* * *

....yeah. Don't kill me for what I did to Demyx's character. I've always considered him to have kind of a hidden sadist side. I have no idea why. But I guess this means that the pairing I supposedly like for being "cute and fluffy" really isn't cute and fluffy at all. Bleehh.

The next chapter, "Insecure", will hopefully redeem Demyx a bit, and it will also be the first time I write from Zexy's POV in this story! So look forward to that. It will also deal heavily with Axel's psychological issues, for those wondering why Axel's the way he is. Preview here:

_This was wonderful, beautiful, marvelous in every way. Zexion had almost--almost--forgotten the thrill of holding a stronger opponent within his grip, the crushing web he could weave with words alone, the knowledge that he knew his opponents' every weakness, and knew how to exploit it, and left them powerless because of his mastery over their minds. The last time he'd ever been able to feel skilled as a manipulator had been that night with Demyx at the party...no, earlier, that first night he'd snuck into Axel's room and laid bare all of Axel's sins, his fears and hopes and demons, before him..._

See? Zexy-centric goodness. Hopefully that'll be forgiveness enough for this chapter...uh, read and review. I really get upset when people add this story to their favorites or put it on alert but don't bother to drop a comment by. It's something I've done in the past, but I'm trying to reverse that now. So please, if you read, _REVIEW_. That'll be all for now.


	6. Insecure

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_6. Insecure_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Let's see if we can redeem Demyx a bit, shall we? Because he's in heavy need of redemption after the last chapter...

Anyway, not much to say about this chapter. It does build up on the Zemyx angle a bit more, and also--heey!!--has a scene from Zexion's perspective. So you have that to look forward to. And those happy with AkuZeku abuse will be very happy with that scene. :) Not to mention, it delves a little bit into Axel's backstory...

So yeah, you can see what scene is my favorite in this chapter. Well, keep reading, and keep reviewing! And that'll be all for now.

* * *

After last night's "personal business", Demyx took the now-familiar steps down to the dungeon, balancing a mug of steaming blood in his hands. Once in the basement, he strode over to the cell on the very far right. As usual, the weak bulb cast a faint halo of light around the prisoner, slumped against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head lowered. He almost appeared to be sleeping, but Demyx knew better.

"Hey," he said, rapping on the bars out of politeness. "It's time for lunch."

Zexion answered immediately, though his words were somewhat muffled because he still hadn't lifted his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Really?" Demyx took a step back, surprised, almost sloshing the blood. "But--hey, I can't--I mean, he heated this up, and I don't think he'd be very happy if you...I mean..." He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"I understand," said Zexion, in that increasingly-familiar emotionless tone. "Enter, if you wish."

Demyx nodded, and unlocked the barred door, slipping into the cell with Zexion. He took a seat on the rough concrete, struggling for a comfortable position and finally deciding to fold his legs Indian-style, hands in his lap, gingerly setting the mug beside him. He was close enough to touch Zexion, and touch Zexion he did, reaching out and placing his hand, gently, on the top of the vampire's head, his hand sinking into the soft and delicate hair.

Zexion jerked, startled, and Demyx quickly withdrew his hand. "Sorry," he said.

"You--you shouldn't be sorry," said Zexion quietly, looking up for the first time. His blue eyes were dark, emotionless. "You can do whatever you want with me. I will not protest."

"Zexion..." The name died in Demyx's throat. Again, he tasted the harsh tang of the word _mastered, _stuck to the back of his throat.

"Yes, Demyx?" Zexion cast Demyx a sidelong, disinterested glance. With a sudden flash of insight, Demyx realized--_he acts apathetic to hide his pain._

"Look--Zexion--ummm...I'm...I'm sorry..." he said awkwardly. Shit--this wasn't coming out at _all _the way he wanted it to! He was aware of how flat his words sounded, how _insincere_...

"_What _are you saying?" Much to Demyx's surprise, a flash of anger had entered Zexion's voice, and when he turned to look at Demyx again, he was glaring, his eyes narrowed and smoldering in rage. Demyx didn't know whether to be alarmed, or pleased--pleased that _finally _Zexion was showing some emotion. "What the fuck are you saying? _Think _about it--_you, _who--who _raped _me--who's been raping me every night--"

"I'm sorry," whispered Demyx, shaking his head over and over again, unable to defend himself except by continually repeating those words, that same lifeless mantra, because he had nothing else. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Apologies mean nothing unless you _mean _them!" snarled Zexion in a furious torrent. "You--you're just as bad as _he _is. No, worse...how can you--how can you be--how can you still be so _kind, _even after all that? After everything you've done?"

"Please, Zex--" But it was futile; Zexion wouldn't let him continue.

"How....? it would be better if you were...if you were like _he _was. If you were just cruel all the time. I could make sense of that. But the way _you _are--you come to me with kind words--and gentle touches--and then in the nights you--_you_--" Zexion's voice cracked, and he broke off, lowering his head again in an abject gesture of pain and misery. A sharp feeling of sympathy stabbed Demyx's heart, and he reached out to help Zexion, but the vampire's hand shot out and knocked his away.

"See? Like _that! _How can you--it doesn't make any--it doesn't make any _sense!" _Zexion shouted. Demyx could only sit where he was, mesmerized by the complicated interplay of emotions across Zexion's face...pain, anger, frustration, hatred, confusion, loss... He couldn't believe that Zexion had been so flat and emotionless before.

Above all the anger, Demyx realized, Zexion was primarily _confused. _He didn't know _why _Demyx was acting the way he was, why he could be so kind at times but so cruel at other times...and the thing was, _Demyx _himself didn't know.

But did he have to know _why? _All he had to know was that it was _wrong, _wrong to treat Zexion so cruelly without any reason...and he knew that Zexion was hurt, hurt and confused and angry. And the _right _thing to do right now was comfort him.

So he found that it wasn't hard to maneuver close to Zexion, drape his arms around the vampire's slender shoulders, and pull him into a tight embrace. Zexion shuddered violently and tried pulling away at first, but then relaxed with a sigh and rested his head on Demyx's shoulder. How long they remained like that, Demyx holding an unprotesting Zexion in his arms, he didn't know, but he found he didn't care. All he was aware of was _Zexion, _so light and cold in his arms--almost insubstantial. As if Demyx wasn't clinging to a real, flesh and blood person, but a ghost, a shadow...

A demon of the night. But strangely, Demyx found he didn't _mind _that Zexion was a vampire and _he _was a slayer. Almost like he had back then, when he'd first spoken to the vampire, but different; this time he _knew _he wasn't under Zexion's spell, but feeling this of his own volition. He knew _Axel _would probably just shake his finger at him, and say, disapprovingly, "He's manipulating you and you don't even know it," but Demyx felt he didn't care. Let Axel do that--Demyx knew, with the clarity in his head that was all _his, _that his feelings were genuine. Not an illusion, not a trick.

"I'm sorry, Zexion," he murmured, breaking the silence. "I don't know why I...I mean, you _are _attractive and I just wanted to..." He trailed off, struggling for the right words to say. "It was wrong. No matter my motives. It was wrong. Now I realize...I mean...now I realize it doesn't mean a thing. Not if _you're _not consenting."

Zexion shuddered--Demyx could feel the tremors that caused the vampire's thin shoulder bones to convulse up, and then down. "I don't understand." The words were low, plaintive.

And Demyx sympathized. What use did a vampire--an _incubus_--have for genuine emotions? "You don't have to, Zexy."

Zexion stiffened. "What--? What was that you called me--"

"'Zexy'. What, I can call you that if I want to, can't I? It's a cute name." Demyx smiled at Zexion, heartened that a bit of Zexion's old confidence was returning.

"It is _disrespectful," _said Zexion, drawing out each syllable pointedly. "'Zexion' is not even my--but _c'est la vie. _If you wish to..."

"No, no." Demyx shook his head, not wanting Zexion to descend back into "bowing-and-scraping" mode. "I'm sorry, okay? For...for _everything. _It was wrong, Zexy--Zexion."

"_Apologizing _will not change the fact that it happened," said Zexion, his words cold and pointed. He still, however, didn't try to pull away from Demyx, and Demyx only tightened his grip around Zexion.

"Then...then what do you _want _me to do?" Demyx reached down, gently placing his hand on the side of Zexion's face, tilting the vampire's head up so they were eye-to-eye. Zexion met Demyx's gaze steadily, his expression apprehensive.

"I...you are asking..._me_...what I want?" he said, his voice quiet, and almost disbelieving. Demyx felt a fresh stab of sympathy for Zexion, and bobbed his head in a nod.

"Yeah. You tell _me _what you _want." _Demyx found it wasn't hard to smile, particularly at the bewildered expression on Zexion's beautiful face. He found Zexion's confusion endearing, yet...sad...too, in a strange way. Sad because it was more than clear that Zexion had never before really been _listened _to before...

Again, Demyx found himself wondering about Zexion's story...

"I--I want to leave this--this _hell," _said Zexion, his words awkward and tripping over each other, yet blazing with a fresh hatred. He swept his eyes around the dank and rotting prison, and Demyx followed suit. "But I figure that is beyond your power. So for now...I suppose...no, this is foolish. You won't even do what I say."

He turned away from Demyx, glaring off to the side and biting his bottom lip. Demyx sighed, recognizing what the sullen gesture meant, and reached out and ran a hand through Zexion's delicate, slate-blue hair. Zexion cringed, slightly, but Demyx drew closer, tilting him up by the chin so they were eye-to-eye again. He flashed Zexion a smile, which Zexion did not return.

"You have to trust me, Zexy. _Believe _me. I promise you that I'll never--I'll never do that to you again," said Demyx, imbuing his words with all the seriousness he could muster. He _had _to make sure Zexion understood, understand that he meant it one hundred percent...

"What does _your _word mean? Don't deny it--you _enjoy _what you do. You'll do it again," muttered Zexion darkly, closing his eyes and turning to the side. "How can I trust you?"

"You trust Axel," said Demyx, remembering something Zexion had said during the first session. "You said--"

"You miscronstrued what I said. When I said I 'trusted' him, I meant that I could trust him to always _hurt _me. That's all," said Zexion, his words cold, flat, and precise--hiding his pain. "But you--I can't trust _you _to do one thing or the other. How do I know if you're going to hurt me or--or treat me _kindly? _I can't, so I--mff!"

Demyx couldn't help it. As Zexion let loose his torrent of anguished words, Demyx took the vampire's face in his hands, bent down--and kissed him.

It wasn't a deep, passionate, consuming, kiss--more like just a brief little peck on the mouth. But when Demyx drew away, Zexion's eyes were wide, huge with surprise, as if Demyx had done much more than just peck him once. Demyx cracked a nervous smile, and ran his hand down the side of Zexion's face again, marveling in its cold softness...

"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "But c'mon, you gotta agree with me on _that _count--sometimes you talk a bit too much."

"In many cases," said Zexion, his tone acid, "_words _are the only weapon I have at my disposal. The one weapon that _no one_ can ever taken from me." He then jerked on his chains, as if to emphasize that they were weakening his other powers.

"I see," said Demyx, and pressed his lips to Zexion's again. He lavished more time into this kiss, savoring the taste of Zexion's lips--_moonlight, shadows, violets, vanilla, coffee, blood_--and again how icy-cool, yet soft and delicate, he was...but unlike all the other times he'd done anything sexual with Zexion, he kept full control of himself. No letting the incubus seduce him, no letting his own animalistic hormones take him over; he was going to do this on _his _terms.

Zexion had now started to return the kiss, but his motives were different from Demyx's--he was prodding, teasing, probing at Demyx's lips with his tongue, in a maddening effort to get Demyx to open his mouth. From then, it'd be all too easy for the vampire to crush Demyx into a full, open-mouthed kiss, and bite, hard, on Demyx's tongue, and lap up the fresh blood that would flow forth...

Needless to say, that was something Demyx did _not _want. He successfully repelled Zexion's attempts, clinging on to the vampire's slim waist and pulling him closer, at the same time refusing to open his mouth. Zexion fought back, his hands flying to the sides of Demyx's face, his claws digging into the skin, drawing blood, but Demyx didn't care. Let Zexion know that Demyx was stronger--but also let him know that Demyx _cared. _That he would do nothing to hurt Zexion...

Was this, Demyx realized with another sudden flash, what it _really_ meant to "master"?

"Mmn--nghh--damn it--open _up_--" hissed Zexion darkly, making another lunge at Demyx's mouth. Demyx finally decided to bring the game to an end, and pulled away from Zexion before Zexion could smash his lips to Demyx's. Zexion let out a low snarl of annoyance when the chains pulled him back, preventing him from getting closer. Demyx grinned and then tsked.

"Don't be so impatient, _Zexy," _he said. "Sooo...have we, uh, have we made up?"

"We will _never _'make up', Demyx," said Zexion, shooting Demyx a dark glare. "Just because I am willing to make _out _with you does not mean I am willing to make _up _with you. To me, you are as cruel a _master _as _he _his, if not crueler, because you're _inconsistent _with your cruelty. Try to mull that one over, if you _can, _that is."

Demyx couldn't help it. He through his head back and laughed.

"What?" said Zexion, looking irritated--no, _more _than irritated: _furious. _That just made Demyx laugh harder, so hard, in fact, that he doubled over, clutching his stomach, barely able to breathe in between snorts of laughter. He staggered back to avoid knocking Zexion's mug of blood over, but the laughs were shaking him so badly he thought he was going to fall over.

"What's so funny, you idiot?" snarled Zexion, yanking angrily at his restraints--though they didn't come off, as they were securely bolted to the wall. "Idiot! _Idiot! _Stop laughing--and let me tell you, if you are laughing at _me _I promise you that you will _not _escape alive--"

"N-no," choked Demyx when he'd finally managed to regain some control over himself. He fell to his knees, his abdomen aching form the force of his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. "No, I really--I didn't--it's just that...I'm _happy, _Zexy."

"Happy?" Zexion arched a slate-blue eyebrow. "Andstop calling me by that idiotic name--"

"I _am. _I'm happy," said Demyx, and he cracked a huge grin that he hoped expressed just a fraction of his elation. "It's really--I was really worried that I'd broken you. But now I see you're perfectly intact. You're just as mean as ever. That's great!"

"You're an idiot," said Zexion, the word dripping with cold judgment.

"Idiot and proud," declared Demyx, his grin widening so much he thought his face would burst. "Really, Zexy, keep up the insults. Insult me as much as you can. Don't worry about me being hurt; sticks and stones and so on, right? I'm glad. I'm really glad. No, _more _than glad. But I figure it'd take more than an idiot like _me _to break you..."

A strange look came over Zexion's face at that instant--partly anguished, partly hopeless, partly angry. He lowered his head, and mumbled to the floor, "I suppose that's so...what could _you _do that's worse than..."

Demyx was too elated to really care about Zexion's bad mood, though. He almost waltzed over to the door of Zexion's cell, and before exiting flashed the vampire his brightest smile. "Feel better, okay, Zexy? Tonight, I promise you--tonight, I don't care what Axel says, I'm not going to hurt you anymore--and be sure to drink your blood before it gets too cold--"

He had no idea what he was saying anymore, but it didn't matter--the elated feeling was lifting him up, making his arms and legs feel light and buoyant, causing each throb of his heart to send bursts of pure bliss through his veins. A part of Demyx wondered if he'd finally gone off the deep end, but then he reasoned that if he was able to _think _that he was crazy, he _wasn't, _and anyway, what was the point of such idiotic wonderings?

"See you tonight!" called Demyx to the incredulous, slack-jawed Zexion just as he scaled the stairs again--and he found that he was looking _forward _to it.

Because tonight, for the first time in weeks, he'd make sure that they _both _enjoyed it. Screw whatever _Axel _thought! He wasn't Demyx's teacher anymore, and he had no control over Demyx. Demyx was free, free to make his own decisions. And he'd decided. Enough with this mastering business--he was going to be kind to Zexion.

And heaven be damned if _Axel _didn't like it.

* * *

The vampire the humans knew as Zexion lingered in the hall outside Axel's office, his back to the wall, his arms folded, eyes closed, pretending to be lost in thought and completely oblivious to his surroundings--but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In truth, his ears were pricked, his mind intent, and he was focused on nothing more than the room behind him, on picking up the gentle lilt of voices through the wall.

He heard the voices as loudly as if the two were right outside the hall with him, or if he was in the room with them. The boy--Roxas--was speaking, reciting a list of vampire-related facts.

"...um, and sunlight severely stuns them and for some of the really weak ones it can burn 'em up..." he was saying, his youthful voice uncertain, but eager to please. His scent wasn't such a bad one--it had a slight taint, from him having spent so long in the sordid tenements, but overall was sharp, clear, clean. The scent of one with no guile, and absolute certainty in what was _right._

Zexion found that sort of person insufferably boring. Of more interest to him was the _other _voice...the _other _scent.

"Yeah, that's right, Rox," said Axel, his voice encouraging, almost _friendly _beneath the smirking confidence. The scent, however, betrayed no friendliness--merely a strong trace of smoke mingled with spice and shadows. Complicated, exactly like the person who bore the scent. "How 'bout crosses? How do _they _affect vampires?"

"Er...they dont?" Roxas phrased it as a question, but he needn't have bothered; any idiot who wanted to be a slayer (or who _was _a vampire) knew that a Christian cross had about as much effect on a vampire as a strong dose of garlic. Which meant, none at all.

"Good job," said Axel. "Yeah, that's right. Most stakes are carved like crosses and a lot of guns have cross designs, and crosses carved on the bullets anyway. But that's not because the vampires are immune to crosses. It's mostly tradition, carried out from back in the day when the Catholic Church was the largest employer of vampire slayers in the world. Got it memorized?"

_Excluding Han Dynasty China, _thought Zexion irreverently. _The Third Reich might also compare favorably to the Catholic Church in the number of vampire slayers they employed...and they were certainly much more successful at _killing _vampires. It wasn't just _Jews _in Auschwitz..._

"So, yeah," Axel was saying, while Zexion mused on vampire history, "you're learning really quickly, Roxas. Pretty soon I might be able to take you on your first hunt!"

"Really? You mean it?" Roxas's voice was raw with eagerness, and Zexion could just picture the boy standing up, hands shaking in anticipation. That boy...he was all too eager. Zexion didn't know if it was a good thing or not--was it something he could use in his favor? Or did it mean that the boy would one day become a deadly opponent, and had to be eliminated?

Not that Zexion was going to do any eliminating _now. _He glared distastefully at silver chain dangling from the cuff around his wrist, and the bright red burn ring beneath the cuff. Day after day he was getting better at blocking out the sharp searing sensation, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less...

Unbidden, Zexion found himself flashing back to _that _person...to the idiotic, smiling, blonde, who smelled of sea salt and ocean breeze, and had a voice that bubbled like a babbling brook. He _babbled_ as much as a brook, too. That idiot, who'd visisted him in his cell about a week ago, said a bunch of stupid things, and then kissed him...

But Demyx _had _made good on his promise. Against Axel's irritated protests, he had started treating Zexion kinder in bed, asking if _Zexion _enjoyed it too. It was odd; Zexion couldn't remember the last time he'd been allowed to enjoy sex. He supposed he shouldn't begrudge Demyx's sudden kindness, but he was doing his best to remain aloof from the blonde slayer. That last time, he'd spilled too many of his emotions for his liking...he would be more careful to keep himself under control in the future...

"Hey, where are you going?" called Roxas from inside.

"Oh, getting the door. Wouldn't want to keep our visitor waiting, would we?" said Axel, the veneer of friendliness gone from his voice, laying bare his usual taunting, smirking tone for all the world to hear. He had moved to the door and was making to open it. Zexion unpeeled himself from the wall, turning to face the door.

"Huh? What visitor--" said Roxas, but just as he spoke, Axel swung the office door open.

He stood there, a confident smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets. Exactly as Zexion knew him, and feared him--always so _confident. _Axel would never show any weakness, and this frustrated Zexion above all else--that he couldn't find anything to exploit. That Axel, this vampire slayer, was so much more _powerful _than him...more than the torment, the rape, the imprisonment, the _power _that Axel held rankled Zexion. He could do whatever he wished, and Zexion would be powerless to stop him.

"Come on in," said Axel, sweeping his arm behind him in an overly dramatic "after you" gesture. Zexion saw no use in resisting, and so wordlessly followed Axel into the study.

Axel's top-floor study was as disorganized as Zexion had last seen it, very early in his imprisonment when Axel had sought to "master" him in there. It hadn't changed, except it had acquired more clutter. Zexion hid a growl of discontent--he _hated _clutter. To him, a disorganized room meant a disorganized mind, and nothing was more horrifying to him than the inability to organize his own thoughts. He followed Axel into the room without complaint, though, standing on the opposite side of Axel's desk while the slayer sprawled into the chair. Roxas just stood by the door, his eyes wide, looking foolish and lost.

"Um..." he said.

"It's okay, Rox," said Axel with a lazy and dismissive wave of his hand. "I summoned him, so you don't have to worry. Why don't you go to sleep?"

"Um--all right. All right. Er, night, Axel," said Roxas, slipping out of the door and shutting it behind him. Of course, both Axel and Zexion knew that Roxas most likely _wasn't _going to sleep--he was probably going to the library to read up on vampires or else train outside in the courtyard. That boy...he threw himself into his training with a fervor that disturbed Zexion, but he felt it was understandable.

"Night, Roxas," called Axel belatedly, staring for the longest time after where Roxas had retreated. Then, he turned around in his chair to face Zexion, linking his fingers together and resting his elbows on the desk. He looked like a teacher prepared to deliver a lecture--this man, thought Zexion in a vague, offhand sort of way, was ultimately more of a teacher than a slayer.

"So," said Axel. "Do you know why I summoned you?"

_Indeed. I wonder why...? Usually you are content to leave me to rot in that cell. _Out loud, he adopted his flat, "obedient servant", demeanor, and said in an inflectionless voice, "No, Master."

"Do you want to know why?"

_Stop the games. You were never very good at it. It is a pain to see you try. _"Yes, Master."

"All right, then. Listen up well and listen up good, you," said Axel, his tone commanding. But he never spoke to Zexion in any other tone... "After some thorough deliberations, I've decided this--you're going to be Demyx's. Got it memorized?"

Zexion was so surprised that he let his "obedient servant" veneer slip. "Excuse me? _That _idiot--"

In a flash, Axel was up and had reached across the desk to grab Zexion by a fistful of his hair, and slam him face-down into the desk. Stars burst into the vampire's vision as his forehead hit the desk, and it took all of his self-control to keep from crying out in pain. Axel twisted Zexion's head back and forth several times, before releasing his pincer grip and resuming his seat again. Zexion slumped against the desk, breathing hard, trying to ignore the blossoming pain on his forehead and scalp...damn it, he should have been more careful...

"Stand up." Zexion obeyed in a heartbeat. "Don't talk about Demyx that way. Although I feel like we've had this conversation before, so I won't dwell on it. Anyway, yeah. You're to be Demyx's. Meaning to say that you'll be released from your prison--don't get your hopes up, I'm not letting you out of the _house_--and you're to live with Demyx. _He _will take charge of most aspects of your discipline and so on. Got it memorized?"

"Yes, Master," said Zexion automatically. But then, he _had _to ask--"But may I ask why, Master?"

"Yeah, go right ahead," said Axel. He'd stood up, and had crossed around the desk so that he was facing Zexion. Zexion took an automatic step back, but Axel's hand shot out and hooked around Zexion's wrist, dragging him closer. Zexion gasped, startled, when Axel then released him--and lifted both of his hands and placed them on the sides of Zexion's face.

Zexion's breath caught in his throat--he couldn't remember Axel ever displaying this much kindness to him before. His mind racing, he started wondering what kind of game _this _was, and supposed he should give Axel points for being somewhat _original _this time... Axel, however, let his hands drop from their gentle carressing of Zexion's face, down to the vampire's waist. This was a better touch; more familiar. But even then, incongruously gentle...

"He _likes _you," said Axel, his voice low, the light in his eyes--_serious. _"You didn't realize? He _does. _He doesn't want to hurt you during the nights. You've noticed that, haven't you?"

_Yes, I have. Do not speak to me like I am an imbecile. _"Yes, Master."

"I'm figuring this is best for you...for _both _you and him. I want to make him happy, after all," said Axel, and the slight hint of a smile started playing on his face. The hands around Zexion's waist tightened--not enough to hurt, but enough so that Zexion felt the pressure. "It's getting a pain babysitting all _three _of you at the same time--plus Saunders--so I figure this'll be _one _burden taken off me, you know?"

_Tch. _Again, a deferent, "Yes, Master. That is all, Master?"

"Yeah, that's all. Now screw off," said Axel, releasing Zexion's waist and striding back around the desk to the computer. He was probably preparing to play online pinball all night, thought Zexion sourly, and wanted the vampire gone as soon as possible. But Zexion, however, remained standing there, watching Axel...

Once again evaluating strengths, weaknesses. Advantages, disadvantages. Control, chaos. So he was falling out of Axel's control--but would _Demyx _control him? And...would this be an opportunity for Zexion? It definitely was, but an opportunity to do what? Escape? And then there was Demyx _himself, _complicating everything with his bizarre mix of kindness and cruelty...

But one thing was clear. There _was _an opportunity in this moment, and it had nothing to do with Demyx and everything to do with Axel.

"Hey. I told you to fuck off," said Axel, glancing away from the computer to cast Zexion a bored, imperious look. Actually, Axel had said _screw _off, but...

"Master," said Zexion, hissing inside at the way the word burned as it came up his throat. It tasted sour, disgusting, and if he'd had just an iota less self-control, he would have _spat _it out. "May I be granted permission to speak freely?"

_Permission to speak freely. _Like a soldier. But Zexion had never given such a request to Axel before, and wasn't sure how to do it. So he phrased it like a soldier would address his commander, or _he _would address the Superior back in the coven...

"Huh?" Axel arched a red eyebrow, looking bored and annoyed. "Oh, sure. Go right ahead."

Hmm. _Axel _was being surprisingly generous. Zexion supposed he shouldn't waste this opportunity. "Master...I was just wondering...why do you hate me so much?"

"Huh?" said Axel again, not looking away from the computer screen, but then yawned and turned to face Zexion. "Oh, as if that _isn't _obvious. Let's see, how about _this_--you're a vampire and I'm a slayer."

Zexion had been expecting this reply, so he wasn't disappointed. He merely folded one arm across his chest and lifted the other to his chin, surveying Axel through half-closed eyes. After waiting for exactly two minutes, he said, his voice low and insidious, "Are you _certain _that's the only reason...? Could it have something to do with, say--_that night?"_

"What--?" Axel jerked out of his seat so fast that it shot out from behind him crashed into the window behind him, where it spun a few weak revolutions and then fell over with a resounding crash. Axel didn't seem to care, though--he had stood up, his every muscle tensed, and his hand had flown automatically to his belt--though there was no weapon there. He looked like a wildcat, taut and prepared to spring at the slightest provocation, his eyes narrowed, breathing hard.

"Master, with all due respect--" _Meaning none _"--I have to say _that _is a more plausible reason for your behavior than just a general loathing for all vampires. You hold a grudge towards me, for the things I said that first night. No matter how much you tell yourself that it doesn't matter what I said--what I _showed _you--you still can't shake my words and illusions off that easily. You wake up in the middle of the night, arrested by nightmares. My words creep into your mind during your idle moments, and you can't help but wonder..." And then he said, lowered his voice to a silky whisper:

"..._what if everything I said to you was true?"_

This was wonderful, beautiful, marvelous in every way. Zexion had almost--_almost_--forgotten the thrill of holding a stronger opponent within his grip, the crushing web he could weave with words alone, the knowledge that _he _knew his opponents' every weakness, and knew how to exploit it, and left them powerless because of his mastery over their minds. The last time he'd ever been able to feel skilled as a manipulator had been that night with Demyx at the party...no, earlier, that first night he'd snuck into Axel's room and laid bare all of Axel's sins, his fears and hopes and demons, before him...

Even now, when theirs was a relationship was one of such gross imbalances, Zexion realized that he _still _had something he could exploit in Axel. The knowledge made him smirk, that familiar confident smirk that he hadn't had any reason to put on at all these past nightmarish weeks--but only for a moment. Because the next instant, the force of a hundredweight slammed against his face and knocked him, winded and gasping, to the floor.

Axel loomed above him, his face a dark mask of fury, his hand trembling. The torment wasn't over yet--for Axel lifted his foot and ground it, hard, into the small of Zexion's back. Zexion bit back a scream of pain--this was worth it. _All _worth it. He'd managed to set Axel off--

"Shut _up, _you fucking little monster!" roared Axel, grinding his foot back and forth, fury twisting his voice and making it almost unrecognizable. "Like _you_--like I'm _ever _gonna let you manipulate me again--you and your _lies_--"

"_Lies? _How can you be _sure? _You really do feel that way about him, don't you? You care about him--and it hurts you whenever you think you haven't done a good enough job with him," continued Zexion, speaking a little more quickly now, but never allowing any of the insidious intent to leave his voice. "You think you've _failed _Demyx--that you weren't a good teacher--a good guardian--"

"Shut up shut up shut up _shut up shut up SHUT UP!!!" _howled Axel, stomping, now, with each plaintive cry. Zexion bit his lip to keep from screaming in pain, ignoring the warm blood that trickled down his chin. He was sure he'd be left with horrible bruises--probably wouldn't even be able to stand up--but that was an acceptable price to pay for _this. _"Shut the _fucking hell up--_you have _NO _idea--"

"True, I am not you," said Zexion, swallowing blood and keeping his voice steady, even as Axel grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up so they were face-to-face. "But I can understand your pain. Your pain at disappointing Demyx...at disappointing your _parents_...you're worried, constantly worried, that you can't measure up to _anyone, _that you're a _failure_--"

This earned him a firm punch straight in the face, sending him reeling backwards and colliding into the wall. The punishment wasn't over then--because Axel snatched him by the shoulder, so hard he most certainly left bruises, and hit Zexion in the face again. Zexion hissed as the blow collided--not just because it was a hard blow but also because of the rings on Axel's hand, which had left painful burns on Zexion's face.

"Shut _up!" _roared Axel again, hitting Zexion in the stomach this time. Zexion coughed, tasting the salt tang of blood in his mouth--but still felt satisfied. He'd gotten the exact reaction he'd wanted. "_SHUT UP!!! _Don't you _dare_--don't you fucking tell me--you _monster--_monster, monster, _monster, monster--"_

He let go of Zexion, then, and Zexion, startled by the lost of contact, stumbled backwards, catching himself on a bookshelf. His head spun and he was aching all over, not to mention feeling ready to vomit up blood--yet he couldn't have been more happy. He'd done it. Proven to Axel that the slayer's control was false, a thin and tenuous connection that could be sliced in half with a simple word. He almost, irrationally, wished the others from his coven were here, so he could show them once and for all that words _did _have power and that he _wasn't _just a mere incubus...

"Monster...monster..._monster_..." hissed Axel, over and over again, sinking slowly to his knees, his eyes huge and wild and desperate. But they weren't focused on Zexion--no, he was staring at his hands, held before him and twitching like pale crabs. "Monster..._monster..._oh God, _monster_..."

With a shuddering, abject groan, he buried his face in his hands, and started shaking madly, still whispering, "Monster, monster, oh God..." like a desperate mantra, like it was the only thing that was anchoring himself to the earth.

Zexion remained leaning against the bookshelf, watching Axel, partly fascinated, partly--_pitying_, even--

But mostly satisfied. A deep, overwhelming feeling of satisfaction that coursed through all his veins and kept him standing and steady even when he was threatening to collapse from exhaustion and pain. Hell, he knew he'd suffer--_suffer_--for this tomorrow, but for now, he let the euphoric delight take over and drown him in sharp, sadistic pleasure, the likes of which he'd never felt before.

He'd proven it, beyond anything. Proven that Axel, his captor, his jailer, his _master, _was nothing more than a weak and insecure fool. With a confidentsmirk gracing his pale features, the vampire turned around and departed the room, his strides strong and self-assured. For this night, at least, he had won.

* * *

"So I heard you were gonna be mine," said Demyx, plopping down on the bed and flashing Zexion a smile that, much to his surprise, was _genuine. _But hey, he _did _like Zexion...

"Indeed," said Zexion lightly. He didn't sit down, but remained leaning against the wall--his dark eyes flickering around the room, taking in his surroundings. Understandable; he'd never been in Demyx's room before...although Demyx didn't think there was much to see. Just the bed (which had green sheets), the nightstands, the pictures on the walls, the closet, and a few of Demyx's personal possessions strewn around. Demyx couldn't imagine that it would hold any interest at all for the vampire.

He himself was watching Zexion, cautiously. Apparently, last night Zexion and Axel had gotten into a fight (why had Demyx _missed _this?), and Zexion certainly seemed to be the worse off for it. He had several new bandages on his face, and had been limping quite painfully. Still, Zexion didn't seem to care at all about his injuries, and Axel, for his part, had barred himself into his room and refused to emerge, worrying Roxas greatly and causing Saunders fits.

"Er..so you'll be staying here with me?" said Demyx, feeling awkward. This was almost...too good to _ask _for, and he was wondering if Zexion was coming with any strings attached. But no, he shouldn't look gift horses in the mouth...

"Yes," said Zexion, sounding disinterested. He turned to cast a glance at the guitar case thrown at the base of the closet, and bent over it, prodding the case with a claw. "You play?"

"Uh...yeah. Some," said Demyx, feeling his face burn bright red from the lie. He didn't know why he was so embarrassed, but...somehow felt Zexion didn't appreciate music playing. But since when, he wondered, did he need _Zexion's _approval?

Anyway, Zexion saw through the lie, so the whole point was moot. "You're lying." There was no accusing note to his voice; his words were as flat and precise as always.

"Well...okay, I _do _play, and I like it..." said Demyx.

"But _he _does not." It didn't take a genius to figure out which "he" Zexion was talking about--the only "he" that mattered to both him and Demyx. "Does he?" The vampire cast Demyx a sidelong glance, a look of purely academic curiosity on his face. Demyx responded by shaking his head.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "Axel's kind of tune-deaf, so he doesn't appreciate any music..."

"Are you good at it?" Zexion seemed strangely interested in this topic, but Demyx couldn't fathom why.

"We-ell...I've never had any formal training, but..." Demyx flushed even brighter and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, remembering a party back when he'd been young--only twelve--where he'd convinced Axel to let him play the piano. After Demyx had finished with a melody he thought was simple and rather childish, all of the awed partygoers stood up and gave him a thunderous ovation. Demyx had been embarrassed for weeks afterwards, and terribly confused--especially by the words of one kindly gentleman, who, perhaps meaning well, had said:

_"Why, boy, are you training to be a slayer? You'd be known the world around if you pursued a career in music!"  
_

Even today, sometimes Demyx heard those words in his dreams--or rather, nightmares--and always, after hearing them, he felt the same he had back then. A sick, sinking sensation in his stomach, a burning heat in his face, a swirl of confused emotions in his head. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly down as a slayer, he even entertained what he'd come to call "The Forbidden Notion"--that of shredding his license, picking up his guitar, and doing nightclub gigs.

But never. He was a vampire slayer. Nothing else.

"Never mind...that was a rude question," said Zexion. He came to sit on the bed beside Demyx, his hands in his pockets, his eyes never leaving the guitar case. "But tell me, Demyx. You do like music, don't you?"

"You kidding? I love it!" said Demyx before he could stop himself. He blushed, again--he was sure that by now, Zexion was convinced that he was an immature idiot. Well, he supposed he _was _an idiot and not terribly mature for his age, but...

"Then why are you a slayer?" Demyx jumped, startled at the question--but why should he be? It was the question he'd been asking in his head just a few moments ago.

"I--look--well--it's because--I feel like--" After a few false starts, Demyx managed to scrounge up the words for what he wanted to say. "Because it's in my nature. I mean...it's something that...I mean, I was _seven _when Axel rescued me. That's how I became his student--he rescued me from a vampire. He was ten. I was seven. Yeah. I spent the next ten years with him."

"I admire your restraint in being able to spend that much time with Axel without comitting homicide," said Zexion, his tone dry. Demyx chuckled a little and went on.

"Ten years...it's a really long time, you know? I couldn't...I mean...all that time with Axel. As you said. He was always--he never thought of being anything _but _a slayer. It was in his blood. And me...because I was with him, I started to think like that, too." He paused to glance at Zexion, now starting to feel horribly embarrassed. He'd _never _said any of these thoughts aloud before, and voiced out loud they were starting to seem foolish. Zexion's only response, however, was to nod for Demyx to continue.

Demyx cleared his throat and went on. "It was the same for me...I couldn't be anything _but _a slayer. It wasn't just--it wasn't just his attitude rubbing off on me, either. He--Axel _saved _me. I owed him, I owed him my life. After he saved me that night...I mean...there was no way I could be anything else."

He stopped speaking then, staring down at his hands and feeling the burning blush in his cheeks intensify. Now that he'd really said it, his reasons for being a slayer were..._completely _idiotic. But he couldn't go back, not from this life he may or may not have chosen. It was his now; who cared _why _he'd decided to do it?

"I see," said Zexion, his voice quiet. For the first time, he tore his eyes away from the guitar case, and turned to face Demyx, his face blank. "It's something of a shame, though."

"A shame? How's that?" said Demyx, and again the kindly gentleman's words drifted back into his mind_--What a shame, that such a young virtuoso is wasting his talent away_...

"Well...I don't suppose you'd quite understand," said Zexion, shaking his head and looking somewhat bemused. "But...in vampire society, there is no...what's your trendy human term for it...'upward mobility'. We exist for one purpose and one only, and we cannot change our occupations--because it's a part of our natures. Like me. I am an incubus. I can't suddenly decide to become a higher-ranked vampire one day; it doesn't work like that."

"Uh-huh," said Demyx, but then felt to add, "Hey, human society's not that fluid either. I mean, I can't be the King or anything--"

Zexion plowed on as if Demyx hadn't interrupt. "But _you _can choose. You can choose to be a--a musician, or whatever. Or an accountant. Or the President of the United States of America. You're not limited by--what you're born as. True, you humans are a lot of slow, stupid, and mindless animals, but at the very least, in that respect, you're nobler than we vampires are."

"Um," said Demyx, "I'm not quite sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

"A little bit of both," said Zexion with something akin to a derisive snort. Then, changing the subject completely, he faced Demyx again, meeting the slayer's eyes--and _smiling. _Demyx's heart gave a startled jolt--it was the first time he'd ever seen the vampire smiling a _real _smile, not just a seductive smirk. And--

Demyx found he quite liked it. Something about Zexion's gentle, but shy and tentative smile, made his face seem so much younger, and the way the smile extended to his eyes, causing them to light up.... It was as if a cloud had moved aside, revealing the previously hidden sun, and casting the entire landscape into brilliance. For a moment, Demyx almost forgot how to breathe.

"You should play, Demyx," said Zexion, still smiling. "Who knows? A little music might make this hell just a _tad _more bearable..."

"Hey, you really think it's hell here?" protested Demyx. "I mean--you're free from the cell now!"

"That's true..." said Zexion pensively, bringing his hand to his chin again and staring in the distance, his eyes not really focused on anything. "But _he _is still here..."

"_And, _don't forget,"cut in Demyx, grabbing Zexion by the shoulder (ignoring the vampire's startled shout) and turning him so they were eye-to-eye, "you've still got _me."_

Zexion's eyes widened, and his throat convulsed, seemingly in an attempt to come up with words to protest. Then, with a resigned sigh, he shook his head and said, "Yes. For what it is worth...I still have _you."_

Demyx smiled so widely he thought his face would burst. He wasn't sure if what Zexion had said was exactly a good thing, but hey, he decided he was going to be an idiot like usual and just assume it was. And no matter what Zexion thought about their bizarre "relationship"--

_Demyx _liked it, and he was all too happy that he got to spend more time with Zexion.

* * *

See? Zemyx and AkuZeku goodness! Not so much Roxas, though...

The next chapter is called "Love"...hmm, wonder what's going to happen? And hey, it touches a bit on the main plot, too (aaand has discussions on...sparkly vampires!). And lest we forget, make-out scenes:

_It was even better than the first time. Demyx almost thought his head was going to implode from the sheer joy of it--Zexion's taste, overwhelming him, intoxicating him, conquering him, freeing him--he couldn't think, his thoughts were a jumbled mess, all he was aware of was him and Zexion, mouths pressed together, kissing, over and over and over again, his tongue diving into Zexion's mouth, sucking in the vampire's sweet flavor. Sometimes, Zexion's fangs scraped against Demyx's tongue, sending shivers of delight running down Demyx's spine._

So you have that to look forward to. In the meantime, keep the reviews coming, mmkay?


	7. Love

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_7. Love_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: This is, oddly, my favorite chapter so far. And I swear it's not just because of the Twilight discussion-slash-argument in the opening scene (well, that has _something _to do with it...). But yeah, this chapter is the most Zemyx-y so far (at least I feel this way) and has a few AkuRoku hints to it as well. Basically a pairing chapter...which explains the title.

Also, for those of you wondering what the title means, this chapter explains it. So read on, and enjoy!

* * *

Axel was in a sour mood for the next several days. He didn't come down to join Demyx and Roxas at the breakfast table, and was short-tempered and nasty when he _did _bother speaking to either of them. Well, _slightly _less short-tempered with Roxas, but both of Axel's students--former and current--were beginning to become disconcerted by the older slayer's behavior. Sometimes, both of them would just stand outside Axel's study, watching helplessly as they heard curses, bangings, and other unpleasant noises from within.

Demyx was astute enough to notice the pained, miserable look shining in Roxas's wide blue eyes every time this happened. And again...there was that unpleasant churning sensation, eating away at the walls of his stomach, and he couldn't help but admit that there was _something _about Roxas and Axel that was just...

It took all of his self-control to prevent his thoughts from spiraling in _that _direction.

Demyx was surprised by how much he'd come to depend on Zexion during those dark days. Axel never came in to see Zexion anymore, which meant that Demyx had all the time he wanted alone with the vampire. And spend time with Zexion he did. He lay in bed beside Zexion at night, tracing the shape of Zexion's delicate jaw, marveling in how cool his skin was--like marble--yet softer than even an infant's. Sometimes he would kiss Zexion, leaving a trail of kisses down the curve of the vampire's neck...

Sometimes, when he slept with Zexion, he could almost--_almost_--forget about Axel.

Zexion made it easier by casting illusions. Not dark and ominous ones, nor the illusions that enhanced his own sex appeal and would cause Demyx to descend into a blubbering puddle of lust (as he had that _one _time in the dungeon..). They were illusions of quiet seas, moonlit beaches, ancient forests, calm and peaceful libraries. The illusions never lasted long because it took most of Zexion's subdued power to cast them, but Demyx appreciated the effort, anyway. It drew his thoughts entirely from the villa if he could believe that he and Zexion were having sex in a distant, exotic locale, instead of in a bed a floor beneath Axel's study.

Plus, on a more pragmatic level, it meant that Zexion would be so drained by the illusions that he wouldn't have the strength to use his other powers--such as seduction.

On the fifth night of Axel's mysterious black mood, Demyx knelt at the foot of the bed, quietly turning the pages of a book. This had become something of a traditon of his , once he'd discovered that Axel had a substantial library--he spent every night now reading before he went to sleep (or, now, had sex with Zexion). Mostly he read popular vampire fiction, laughing silently at their ludicrous and inaccurate attempts at depicting pureblood vampire society. Axel didn't have many other kinds of fiction, and sadly no comics at all save _Watchmen. _And _Watchmen _was far from Demyx's thing.

"What book is that?" said Zexion that night, breaking Demyx's concentration. Demyx turned, surprised--usually Zexion didn't talk while Demyx was reading. The vampire seemed to respect the sanctity of alone time with a book--he, too, often spent his days curled up with a book, though _his _books were not popular fiction but ancient, dusty old tomes and treatises.

"Er, I think you should've heard of it...it's really popular..." said Demyx, lifting the book so Zexion could see its cover. Zexion snorted the instant he saw it.

"Oh, _those. _Once, Ev--once I was dared to read them. I desire those hours of my life back."

"Ha ha, they're not _that_ bad," said Demyx with a laugh. "I'm a sucker for love stories..."

"_Love? _As if a _human _and a _vampire _could ever love each other," said Zexion, shuddering as if in disgust. "It's disgusting. Would _you _fall in love with a ham sandwich?"

Demyx just laughed, to banish the rising uncomfortable feeling in his chest. "Ha ha ha, yeah, I guess. But she turns into a vampire in the end so it's okay--"

"Speaking of these...'vampires'," said Zexion, making quote marks in the air. "They're hardly vampires at _all. _Sparkling in the sunlight...? Such nonsense. Sometimes I wish I could find the author and teach her what _real _vampires are like..." His voice dropped into a low, threatening snarl...and Demyx knew _exactly _what Zexion was intending, and it made him even more uncomfortable.

"Oh, come _on, _Zexy," he said, shaking his head. "Her vampires aren't _that _bad. I mean, they're interesting in a way...you know, the whole drinking animal blood thing..."

"Ah, that." Demyx suddenly became aware of a change that had come over Zexion's posture. Before, the vampire had been slouching in the bed, his posture bored in haughty--but now he straightened up, his body stiff, and he fixed Demyx with a long and intent look, his dark blue eyes unreadable.

"Yeah, that," said Demyx, trying to keep his tone light and conversational in a vain effort to dispel the dark and ominous air that had fallen over the room. "I mean...vampires _can _drink animal blood, can't you? It doesn't have to be just _human, _does it?"

"Yes," agreed Zexion, his voice low and tightly controlled. "We _can _drink animal blood."

"Then why dont you?" said Demyx, still trying to sound casual but beginning to fail magnificently. "If it's just tradition--well, I'm sure there might be a group of purebloods who, you know, like the Cullens, live off animal blood--"

"Tch. _No _pureblood would choose to subsist entirely on vampire blood," cut in Zexion coldly.

"But--I mean--you _can _survive off animal blood--you just said it--" stammered Demyx.

"Yes, if there's no other form of sustenance available, we can live off animal blood," said Zexion, his words clipped and sharp and precise--but his tone was entirely familiar. It was the same one Axel had often taken with Demyx, the patronizing "teacher knows best so listen to the fucking teacher" tone. "There's a famous story of one pureblood who managed to survive seventeen years in the middle of a remote jungle, living off only the blood of the animals he killed."

"See!" cried Demyx triumphantly.

Zexion, however, just shook his head in a manner that could only be described as "This one has much to learn, yes he does", and lifted a hand for Demyx to stop babbling. "Don't be an idiot. By the time he was rescued, he was emaciated. Wasted away. You know those pictures--those UNICEF pictures--of starving children in Africa? Yes? Well, that's what he looked like."

"I see," said Demyx, suddenly feeling very frozen. He could barely get his jaw muscles to work, and a slow chill spread from his heart to the tips of fingers and toes. "I...I see..."

"It's true that animal blood provides us _some _sustenance, and we can survive off it as an emergency measure," Zexion continued, seemingly oblivious to Demyx's reaction. "But any vampire who makes a conscious choice to live _only _on animal blood has clearly been knocked so hard in his head that his brains have turned all around."

"Okay..." said Demyx just for something to say. "So you don't have a choice but to live off humans...? But aren't there--aren't there any of you--who are _good, _you know, and don't like to eat humans?"

He had no idea what had brought on this train of thought. Previously, he'd had no trouble at all accepting the usual belief that all vampires were just evil, nasty, brutish mosnters living only to suck the blood of humans--they could not be rehabilitated. But he'd never thought about _purebloods _before, and he was finding it more and more difficult to reconcile his vision of demonic monsters with someone as intelligent and complicated as Zexion. Especially as he witnessed more and more of Zexion and Axel's interactions--who was more man, and who was more monster? Sometimes, Demyx couldn't tell.

And he _liked _Zexion, too...he wanted to believe that Zexion was a "good" vampire, like the Cullens, so as to justify his increasingly close relationship to the vampire. Zexion seemed reasonable enough...certainly he wouldn't be trapped into thinking that humans were just _food_...

"_Good?" _snarled Zexion, his sharp voice slicing through Demyx's tormented thoughts. Demyx looked up, alarmed; Zexion was clinging on to the edge of the bed, his knuckles white, his face livid. His lips were trembling in a snarl, a snarl that revealed his fangs all too obviously. "How--how simple can you _be? _Think--_think_--about what you are saying! Just _think, _you idiot!"

"Um, Zexy--" began Demyx nervously.

"The world is not in black and white, you little mortal _fool," _hissed Zexion, leaning close to Demyx and prodding the slayer in the chest with a long, clawed finger. Demyx gulped and jumped backwards, startled. "Just because _I _require human blood for sustenance--does that make me 'evil'? And does that make all of you--all of you miserable scampering lot--'good'? Does that make _Axel _good?"

Shit. These were the exact same thoughts that had been running through Demyx's mind earlier...

"It doesn't," said Zexion quietly, answering his own question. "You shouldn't judge everyone by your own simplistic human standards. Look at things from my eyes--what do I see when I look at you humans?"

"Zexy, I'm sorry," said Demyx, holding out his hands in a desperate attempt to stop Zexion from going on further. He did _not _like the direction this conversation was taking and was sorry he'd ever brought up the subject. "I understand now. I was wrong. Please, stop this--"

"That's easy," continued Zexion, talking over Demyx and pretending to ignore the slayer's miserable pleadings completely. "I see a mob of reeking, stupid mindless creatures who are slaves to their instincts and have no conception of anything beyond their own narrow lives. I see imbeciles. I see animals. I see _meat."_

"You know, you could say that about--" began Demyx, but Zexion cut him off before he could say "made vampires."

"You're _meat. _The whole entire lot of you. _You_--" He pointed at Demyx "--are meat. _He_--" Directing his point upwards, at Axel's study "--is meat. And so is _he." _Outside, at the courtyard where Roxas was training intently. "More meat here." Down, at the servants' quarters. "Meat here, meat there. Meat _everywhere." _And with that, he spread his arms wide, in a gesture meant to encompass the entire world.

Demyx could only sit still where he was, the book dangling limply from his hands, paralyzed by horror. A million wild thoughts coursed through his mind, but his throat was stuck, and he didn't know just _what _he was going to say, anyway. It was just wrong--so _wrong_--everything Zexion was saying was wrong; everything went against Demyx's own training as a vampire slayer. Humans _weren't _meat. They were just a decent lot (well, _mostly _decent), trying to live the best lives they could. And they couldn't do that if they were constantly in threat of vampire attack, could they? Zexion was smart. Surely he must understand that...

"Zexy..." he said when he finally did find his voice. "That's...that's not right. That's a _horrible _thing to say."

"It's true," said Zexion with a derisive snort.

"But still...maybe, even if it _is _true," said Demyx, his voice quiet, begging, "it's still not...I mean..._look _at me, Zexion. Am I just _meat?"_

He stood up, then, and spread his arms wide just as Zexion had done earlier. But Demyx's intent was different--he wanted Zexion to look at _him. _To make sure that Zexion saw nothing _but _him, and then thought long and hard about what he'd just said--about his own feelings for Demyx--

_The fuck? I did _not _just think that, did I? No, noo, I didn't mean "feelings" like that, just "feelings" like "general thoughts about me"! Yeah. That's right..._

"Demyx," said Zexion, his voice low, turning away.

"Don't turn away, Zexion. _Look _at me. Look at me and tell me if you see 'meat'," said Demyx, raising his voice to match Zexion lowering his.

"I..." Zexion shook his head, his slate-blue fringe swinging...but then he turned and slowly, unwillingly, met Demyx's eyes. Zexion's visible eye was wide, almost frightened--but Demyx remained standing where he was, arms outstretched, ramrod straight, grimly making sure that Zexion _saw_--

"Am I meat, Zexion?"

"N....I'm sorry..." whispered Zexion, lowering his head.

"Don't apologize! I didn't ask you to," said Demyx, putting a little more sharpness in his tone than was called for.

"Demyx..." Zexion met Demyx's eyes again, but his expression was beseeching--_familiar._ Demyx had seen that same expression not too long ago, back when Zexion had been begging him for mercy during the nights, and even earlier than that, when he'd first met the vampire and Axel had punished him for trying to seduce Demyx...

Demyx's resolve shuddered, but he refused to let it snap--although when he spoke, he lowered his voice, let a note of kindness enter it. "Answer my question. I need to know--_am I meat?"_

Zexion didn't answer for the longest time--so long, in fact, that Demyx was starting to think he wasn't going to _get _an answer. Then, suddenly, the vampire's voice, so low that Demyx had to strain to hear it, floated through the silence:

"No."

Demyx sighed deeply, shrugging his shoulders and surprised at how relieved he was by Zexion's answer. "That's...that's good. That's good, Zexion."

"Are you..." Zexion paused, and turned away from Demyx, seemingly embarrassed. "Are you still...angry at me?"

Demyx took a step back, surprised; was _this _what Zexion was worried about? He didn't know whether to be touched, or...confused. Why did _Zexion _care what Demyx thought about him? Maybe this was a sign that--

But no. Demyx squashed such foolish thoughts before they could take hold and spread cancerously through his mind, and instead he flashed Zexion his best smile and extended his hand to the vampire still crouching on the floor.

"Of course I'm not angry, Zexy. Let's agree to disagree, all right? Now come on, get up."

Zexion's turned back towards Demyx, his eyes wide--looking younger than Demyx had ever seen him. Demyx _knew _that Zexion was an immortal vampire and probably much older than him, but he _looked _so startingly young, so _innocent_, hope and fear both dancing across his expression. The vampire slayer stood patiently where he was, his hand still extended (even though his arm was starting to become numb), until Zexion collected himself enough to lift his own hand, and slide it into Demyx's. Demyx tightened his hand around Zexion's, marveling at how cool and light it was, and drew the vampire up to his feet.

"Agree to disagree, indeed," said Zexion quietly, and pulled himself closer to Demyx's warmth.

* * *

The walk the next evening was, strangely enough, _Axel's _idea. Demyx thought that Axel would be loath to let Zexion out of the house, given how hard he'd been trying to keep Zexion imprisoned--so it came as a massive surprise when Axel approached Demyx and Roxas at the dinner table that evening, looking worn and haggard, and said to Demyx:

"I need you to get out of the house."

Demyx reacted instanteously. He leapt up, almost knocking his chair over, and yelled, "_What? _Hey, I just got evicted a _month _ago and now you're evicting me _again? _What gives, Axel? I know you've been acting strangely these past few days but that's no excuse to--"

"_Stuff _it, Dems," said Axel, a bit of his old smirking superiority returning, lifting a hand to indicate Demyx to shut up. "I didn't say 'pack up your stuff and get the hell out of here', did I? No, I just need you to get out tonight...take a little walk around the neighborhood or something. Roxas and I...have something to discuss."

"Huh? We do?" said Roxas, casting Demyx a startled glance and Axel a confused one. "I didn't--"

"You don't need me out of the house to talk to Roxas," protested Demyx, fighting down a strange surge of jealousy.

"Look, I need my privacy," said Axel with a heavy sigh, runnig a hand through his hair. "All right? Look, I know I've been a...a..."

"A jerk," suggested Demyx.

"A headache," said Roxas.

"Yeah, a jerk, a headache, a pain in the ass," said Axel, waving a dismissive hand as if he didn't really care about his behavior these past few days. Then again, he was already acting far more out of character already than ever before; Demyx was quite certain that Axel had _never _owned up to any churlishness on his own part before. "The point is...look, I'll talk to you about this later, okay, Dems? I need to talk to Roxas right now."

Roxas and Demyx exchanged another long, confused glance, but Demyx finally relented and, with a sigh that he made sure Axel heard, turned around and headed for the front door. As he grabbed his coat, though, Axel called after him:

"Hey, be sure to take your vampire boyfriend with you!"

Demyx walked straight into the wall and was left with bruises on his forehead that probably would take weeks to heal.

So now he was outside, the almost-entirely-set sun to his back...and a thin silver chain wrapped around his hand. The chain led to a silver cuff, around the thin pale wrist of a vampire currently very immersed in the dark night sky. Zexion kept his eyes fixed on the sky, on the few glinting stars that could be seen through the haze of light pollution, ignoring completely the wide boulevards and imposing manors surrounding him.

Demyx sympathized. "It's been a while since you've seen the sky, hasn't it?"

"And even longer since I've tasted fresh air," said Zexion with a sigh, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath--looking almost _content. _Zexion's happiness was strangely infectious--Demyx, too, found it wasn't hard to smile and mean it.

"C'mon. Where do you want to go?" said Demyx, tugging lightly on Zexion's chain. He wished he could hold the vampire's hand, but had the strange suspicion that Zexion wouldn't let him.

"I don't really care," said Zexion, glancing up at the sky again through half-closed eyes. "I'm just grateful to be out here. I thought I was going to forget how it felt like, to stand under the stars in the cool of night..."

"Ha ha, yeah," said Demyx, laughing sympathetically. He started down the sidewalk, Zexion following close behind. The night was chilly, a chill that Demyx felt even underneath his coat; but Zexion didn't seem to mind. He had refused a coat, but didn't seem to feel any cold at all beneath the thin fabric of his button-down shirt.

They remained in silence for most of the walk, Demyx simply enjoying Zexion's quiet company and (he hoped), Zexion enjoying his. It had been a long time since Demyx had been able to walk at a leisurely pace, just enjoying his surroundings--most of the time he spent his days holed up in Axel's villa, or else dashing through the night in a hunt for vampires, too pumped with adrenaline to notice what was happening around him. He savored every second of it, walking side-by-side with Zexion through Axel's neighborhood (which he _had _to admit was quite beautiful), and a vague part of him wondered if he wouldn't enjoy this night as much if Zexion _wasn't _with him...

At length, they arrived at a park, a wide, spacious expanse of green grass and trees with benches and ponds arranged tastefully throughout. During the daytime, it would be beautiful and sun-lit, but also strewn with secluded shady spots; and would be alive with well-dressed rich people showing off their clothes, dogs, cars, and children. In the dead of night, however, the park had a different character. Dark and empty, but peaceful and quiet at the same time.

Demyx led Zexion into the park, following a cobblestone trail through the grass. The night was dead and silent, with no sound at all save the seady thump of Demyx and Zexion's footsteps. Demyx let his thoughts drift as he walked, thinking about--about Axel, about Roxas--

They _did _seem to be rather close. Closer than a student and teacher _should _be... Was there _any _mistaking the way Axel smiled at Roxas, and they way Roxas smiled so eagerly back at Axel? But--

But Roxas was so _young. _And there was no way, just no way, that Axel could... If Axel was capable of loving _Roxas, _then why wasn't he--?

Zexion's voice, quiet but ringing strangely loud in the silent night, cut through Demyx's thoughts before they could go any further in this dangerous direction. "You're hyperventilating."

"Huh? Whah?" Demyx whirled around to face Zexion, startled. "What--oh. Yeah. Er. Sorry."

Zexion's only response was to raise his visible eyebrow, as if asking Demyx "What are you apologizing for, you idiot?" without actually speaking.

Demyx moved on ahead, whistling under his breath and focusing his eyes on the cobblestone path beneath him, so he wouldn't have to think about Axel and Roxas any further. He became immersed in the worn stones beneath his feet, examining the little cracks and the few tiny shoots of crab grass inside the cracks, taking in the uniform dark gray color of the stones....

...and then he saw the butterfly.

It was lying on the edge of the path, crumpled and dark and barely visible. Demyx knew that if he _hadn't _been focused on the path so intently, he would never have seen it. The instant he saw it, though, he strode straight across the path and bent down over it. It was still, its wings crumpled and torn at the edges, as fragile as tissue paper. Dead.

But _beautiful. _Without really thinking about what he was doing, Demyx tenderly scooped the butterfly up in his hands, taking infinite care not to break it. It was hard; even when he picked it up, cradling it as gently as possible, a shower of scales fell from the butterfly's crumpled, moist form on to the path beneath him. Even broken as it was, though, there was no hiding the butterfly's stunning beauty--the iridiscent darkness of its wings, their elegant form, the dazzling glitter of colors as he tilted his hand slightly and the butterfly's iridiscent wings caught the faint starlight.

"What is that..." said Zexion, leaning over Demyx's hand to examine the butterfly. "Ah. A butterfly."

"Uh-huh," said Demyx, turning so that Zexion had a better view of the butterfly. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Tch. I suppose. It's just a dead butterfly, though," said Zexion, turning pointedly away from Demyx. "You might want to put it back. It's probably harboring some nasty diseases--that kind of butterfly isn't native, you know--"

"You know," said Demyx, not listening to Zexion's words because he'd been caught up in his own thoughts. "This butterfly is kind of like _you."_

"Me?" Zexion turned around again, his eyes wide, looking almost stupidly startled. "I don't--that is an odd analogy. I don't see what _I _have to do with a dead insect."

"Hey, it's not--" began Demyx, but backtracked and rearranged his thoughts. "No, you are. This butterfly, it's been...it's been crushed. Broken. Tainted, But it's still beautiful, anyway. Even under the brokenness--the taint--you can see that it hasn't lost any of its beauty. Just like _you _are. Tainted, but beautiful."

Zexion watched silently as Demyx spoke, his face betraying no emotion. In fact, he just stood there not reacting for so long that Demyx started to feel _embarrassed..._it was a stupid metaphor, Zexion wasn't _anything _like a butterfly, this was just Demyx's stupid mouth spouting stupid stuff, as usual. But then he remembered how he had often before compared Zexion to a pinned butterfly...

_  
_"Hmm," said Zexion after what felt like an eternity. Demyx actually jumped, startled by the sound of Zexion's low voice after those long minutes of silence. "So you think I am beautiful, Demyx?"

"Er--um--ah. Yeah," said Demyx, once he'd regained his wits. "Didn't I tell you when we first met--? But it's not just...it's not just _physical _beauty. I mean, you _are _pretty. Very pretty. But there's...there's more to you than that. I like--I like your personality, too. You're just...you've got a sharp mind, and you're so...oh, hell. You're just beautiful in every way."

By the time he'd finished his long, words-tripping-over-each-other ramble, Demyx had no idea what he was saying anymore. He lowered his head, feeling his face burn, _sure _that if Zexion hadn't thought he was an idiot before he was thinking it _now. _What kind of crap had he just said...?

But Zexion, to Demyx's surprise, didn't laugh at him and call him stupid--instead, he lifted his hand, and placed it gently on the side of Demyx's face. Against the burning heat from Demyx's blush, Zexion's hand felt deliciously cool, and Demyx pulled closer to Zexion, wrapping his arm around the vampire's waist, letting himself become lost in the deep, soulful blue depths of the vampire's eyes...

"Hey," said Demyx sharply, and he prodded Zexion on forehead. "No using your powers. That's not fair."

"How isn't it fair, Demyx?" said Zexion, a faint hint of a smile crossing his face--and revealing the tips of his fangs. His eyes were still as beautiful as before, but different--the all-consuming, seductive quality was gone. "I am an incubus. It is part of my nature."

"Yeah, but...you're already beautiful _enough," _said Demyx with a heavy sigh, drawing Zexion closer to him. The vampire slowly slid his hand off Demyx's face, disgruntling Demyx slightly at least until Zexion then wrapped both his arms around Demyx's torso, and rested his chin on Demyx's shoulder. "You'll make me lose all control if you make yourself even _more _beautiful."

"Ha ha ha. You can't be _that _hopelessly infatuated with me," said Zexion with a laugh that Demyx felt as faint puffs of breath on his neck. "I am sure that among incubi I am average at best."

"No, you're--there can't be anyone, vampire or human or whatever, more beautiful than you," said Demyx, again running his mouth without thinking--but he realized that he _meant _what he was saying. Emboldened by that realization, he he moved his hands up, so that one hand was resting on the nape of Zexion's neck, toying with the delicate slate-blue strands there, and the other he maneuvered to rest on Zexion's cheek, delighting in the cool softness of the skin beneath him. "It's not just your powers as an incubus, either, Zexion. Like I said before...your personality, your everything. It's _beautiful. _Nothing can break you, no matter what happens, and...it's...I _like _that. I really do. In fact...I dunno...I think I...I really think..."

Zexion's eyes were dark, serious, boring straight into Demyx's. He did not stop Demyx, not once, even as Demyx stumbled and stammered his way into cementing all his feelings for Zexion into logical words. For that, Demyx was grateful--he was able to think, without interruptions, without thinking about _anything _besides Zexion, so slim and light in his arms, his eyes so piercing...

And so he found it surprisingly easy to say, in a clear, calm, and firm voice: "I love you, Zexion."

Zexion's response was instantaneous. The moment the fateful words exited Demyx's mouth, the vampire shoved backwards, pulling out of Demyx's grip and sending Demyx staggering backwards in dazed surprise. He'd let go of the chain but it didn't matter--Zexion wasn't trying to escape. He was just standing where he was, breathing hard, fury--and something else--burning in his eyes. Something akin to..._disgust._

With a faint feeling of foreboding, Demyx found himself remembering their conversation last night..._Would _you_ fall in love with a ham sandwich? _That was right, he was nothing but _meat _to Zexion, and even if he wasn't _meat _he was an abuser, a rapist...

But that didn't stop Demyx from _loving _him. On one level--the level that was all Axel's student, that was all slayer--it horrified him. How could _he, _a vampire slayer, fall in love with a _vampire? _Not to mention his own tangled feelings towards Axel... But on another level, the stronger level, he thought it made _sense. _Of course he loved Zexion. He loved Zexion for being beautiful, but broken, at the same time; for being confident, but shy; for being seductive, but innocent; for being the wild maze of inconsistencies that ultimately formed a whole that was steady and strong, a person with as many hopes and dreams as Demyx had, a person who had experienced horrific things but had pulled through them all with a fierce determination to just _survive._

Demyx loved Zexion for all of that. It made sense, and he was happy to have realized it when he'd found the butterfly. That, more than anything, had helped reconcile Demyx's image of the warring halves of Zexion, and strengthened his own feelings towards the vampire.

"What are you _saying?" _snarled Zexion, snapping Demyx out of his thoughts. "Do you _ever _think before you start running your mouth!"

"I _do," _protested Demyx, his voice quiet--but firm. He, strangely, felt much less perturbed than he should have. "I love you--"

"Don't say those words! _Idiot! _You're a slayer! I'm a vampire--" shouted Zexion, his rage making his voice almost unrecognizable. He was trembling in his fury, trembling so badly he could barely stand--Demyx strode over to Zexion's side, wrapping his arm around the vampire's waist to keep him steady. Zexion tried to pull away, but Demyx just tightened his grip, pulling him closer.

"I know," said Demyx. "And I know what you're going to say next. Something about _meat, _right?"

"Exactly!" shouted Zexion, as if to say "Bingo!". "Let _go_--"

"You said earlier to me that I _wasn't _meat, though," said Demyx, finding it not that hard to talk above Zexion. "You can't deny _that, _can you?"

"You...you are right, I cannot," said Zexion, dropping his voice for the first time, and glaring down at the ground. Demyx felt it was safe to let go of Zexion now, and slowly unwound his arm from the vampire's waist, though he moved his hand to Zexion's shoulder--just in case. "But...that doesn't mean that...that means _nothing. _You're still not--ah! I see what this is."

"Huh?" said Demyx, taking a step back--startled by the change that had come over Zexion. The vampire was now _smirking, _a confident, smarmy, near-_insufferable _smirk, just like he was that know-it-all kid in class who knew something and didn't want to tell you. He'd folded his arms and tilted his head to examine Demyx more closely.

"I know now," said Zexion, still in that enormously self-satisfied tone. "No, this is _very _intriguing. I've never seen this happen before--certainly never with _me. _It seems my powers have had unintended consequences."

He approached Demyx, then, lifting his hands and placing them on the sides of Demyx's face. Demyx jolted a bit, startled by Zexion's sudden cold touch, but the vampire ignored Demyx's discomfort and drew him closer, so that their faces were only inches apart. When Zexion spoke, Demyx could feel the vampire's breath quite acutely on his face--cold, icy, lifeless.

"Can't you see it? This must be a...a residual effect of...ahem. That is to say," (Demyx had to admit he was slightly amused; he'd never before seen Zexion at a loss for words), "I have been using my powers--however weakened they might be by Axel's wards--quite...consistently...on you. That first evening, I used my powers of seduction...then later, in the cell, and when you first--when you first--did _that. _And now every night I've been showing you illusions. It makes so much _sense. _I'm surprised I didn't see it earlier..."

"Huh? What the hell are you talking about?" said Demyx, feeling annoyed--but _happy _at the same time. After all, he was so _close _to Zexion...all he'd really have to do was lean forward and then...

"This is must be because I've never before had a consistent victim," continued Zexion, speaking quickly, seemingly ignorant of Demyx's interruption. "Not like you...hmm. Truthfully, I've never heard this sort of thing before--most people constantly seduced by the same incubus or succubus just start wasting away--but I suppose it manifested in a different way with you. _I _see! My powers must have left a residual impact in your mind, made you view me more favorably--convinced you that you were _in love with me."_

When he finished, he smirked again, yet another self-satisfied, smarmy little smirk. Demyx could only stand there, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"No...that's not...that's..._wrong, _I think..." he said when he managed to get the air to speak. Even then, he couldn't get his voice to rise above a pathetic half-squeak, half-whimper. "That's not right. I _do _love you! And I love you for more than just your _appearance, _that's a stupid reason to love anything--"

The look Zexion gave Demyx could only be described as _patronizing. _"Oh, you poor mortal fool. So deluded. If I _could, _I'd take you back to the coven and make Vexen fix you."

Demyx didn't know who "Vexen" was and he didn't give a damn. He was _steaming_--how could Zexion make light of his feelings like _this? _"You're wrong, Zexy. I love you. I love you, and I'll repeat that until you _believe _it."

"Oh, I _do _believe it," said Zexion dryly, still fixing Demyx with a superior smirk. "I believe that I have meddled with your mind for far too long and now you're feeling the effects. Believe me--I didn't expect this either. You poor, poor fool."

Demyx decided, right then and there, that he had had _enough _of this. Enough of Zexion's condescension--enough of his patronizing attitude. Damn it, Demyx already dealt with those things on a daily basis from _Axel! _He did not need someone else to start leaking condescension all over him. Especially not the boy he _loved. _And he knew it, knew it with all his heart and everything holy and everything that _wasn't _holy--his feelings for Zexion were genuine. They were _not _some unforeseen side-effect of Zexion's powers.

But he knew trying to convince Zexion of this would be a waste. So instead, he draped his arms around Zexion's shoulders--the vampire didn't seem to mind--and pulled Zexion into a kiss.

The vampire stiffened, and his entire body shuddered--for a brief moment, Demyx thought he was going to protest. But then Zexion relaxed, with a sigh that tickled Demyx's lips, and pressed back into the kiss. Like all of the previous kisses they exchanged, it was a close-mouthed kiss--funny, Demyx thought darkly, how he had sex with Zexion every night but never _Frenched _him--although Zexion tried pushing deeper into it, digging his claws into Demyx's face and smashing his lips to Demyx's with a wild, animalistic fervor, tongue seeking entrance--

And then, for the first time, Demyx _allowed _Zexion to enter.

Zexion must have been as startled as Demyx, given the way his entire body convulsed when Demyx parted his lips and let Zexion's tongue in. But Zexion let the heat of the moment take over, and he eagerly began exploring Demyx's mouth, swirling his tongue over Demyx's teeth, greedily probing into the crevices of the slayer's mouth. Demyx, for his part, tightened his grip on Zexion, drawing him deeper into the kiss, enjoying the sensation of Zexion's light and supple tongue carressing his own, lost in Zexion's _flavor_--it was delicious, so dark but sweet and cool at the same time...

Demyx decided it was time to take the reins from Zexion for now--the vampire had had his fun. As they broke away from that first kiss, Demyx hauled Zexion up again, and before the vampire could figure out what was happening, pulled him into another kiss.

It was even better than the first time. Demyx almost thought his head was going to implode from the sheer _joy _of it--Zexion's taste, overwhelming him, intoxicating him, conquering him, freeing him--he couldn't _think, _his thoughts were a jumbled mess, all he was aware of was him and Zexion, mouths pressed together, kissing, over and over and over again, his tongue diving into Zexion's mouth, sucking in the vampire's sweet flavor. Sometimes, Zexion's fangs scraped against Demyx's tongue, sending shivers of delight running down Demyx's spine.

He was all too reluctant to pull away for the final time, but he did anyway--because there were greater prizes to obtain. Zexion let out a snarl of annoyance when Demyx pulled away, but Demyx ignored him, busy sucking and nipping on the smooth, icy-cool skin of Zexion's neck--and unbuttoning the vampire's shirt. It was a cold night, but Demyx was sure Zexion didn't mind the cold--otherwise he'd have worn a _coat_. He worked steadily down the curve of Zexion's neck, marking it, leaving bruises and hickeys that stood out bright red and blue against the pallidness of Zexion's skin. Down, further, until he arrived at the crook of the vampire's neck, directly where the neck met the left shoulder. Demyx bent eagerly over the hollow, prepared to mark it for himself--but then stopped.

"What..." he said quietly, tracing with his thumb the symbol drawn in sharp, dark lines on the vampire's pale skin. "What _is _this...?"

"Ah...he didn't teach you...? Well, I suppose _he _didn't teach you a thing about purebloods..." said Zexion, grabbing Demyx's wrist and gently removing it from his neck. "This is the symbol of my coven."

"Oh," said Demyx, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. It was a strange symbol, unlike any Demyx had ever seen before--it formed a kind of pointed cross at the top, but was rounded on the bottom. "Your coven..."

"You don't even know _that?" _Zexion's tone was scornful. "He really _is _quite a negligent teacher--"

"No! I _do _know. Yeah. Purebloods aggregate in covens," said Demyx, quoting from memory the lesson Axel had taught him long ago.

"Yes," said Zexion with a little cough that Demyx suspected was hiding a laugh--probably at the big words Demyx was using. "My coven is...one of the most powerful ones in existence." He cast Demyx a meaningful look. "_Xemnas's _coven."

"Who?" said Demyx blankly. The name sounded _kind _of familiar to him, but why? Axel had never taught him any vampire names, save the names of the major, now-extinct bloodlines (due to the old feudal family structure having been replaced long ago by the coven structure).

Zexion didn't bother to hide his derisive little chuckle. "Oh, you poor fool. Either you're a bad student or _he's _a bad teacher..."

"No, wait, wait wait!" cried Demyx, his memory jogged. "I remember...but Xemnas is a _slayer! _Well, _was. _Yeah. He was an--um--he was from the Algerian clans, and he was one of the best slayers in the world. They said he could kill three hundred vampires in a day, that's how good he was. This was way back in the eighteen hundreds though; I remember it was the same time that Napoleon was--! Oh, _I _see...don't do this, Zexy. This is mean, playing jokes on me like this. You _know _I'm stupid."

Zexion was making all sorts of strange faces while Demyx spoke--alternating between confusion and disgust and condescension and disbelief. Not very pleasant. "I am _not _joking. I am serious. You are probably remembering wrong. I can assure you that the Superior--that Xemnas--is a vampire. And has always been. _Axel _must have taught you wrong..."

"He didn't! It's on the Internet," protested Demyx.

"Do you know what they say about one thousand monkeys banging on typewriters...? Oh, never mind. But you shouldn't trust what's on the Internet," said Zexion, his tone admonishing. "_Anyone _can edit Wikipedia."

"It wasn't Wikipedia! I'm _certain!" _cried Demyx, irritated that Zexion was being so damn _stubborn. _"It was the worldwide slayer database, and _they're _accurate! Plus Axel had some history books with Xemnas in them. I know this. He was a slayer. _You're _the one who's getting confused."

"I am not confused about the _vampire _who leads my coven," snapped Zexion. He was buttoning his shirt again, turning up the collar to partially hide the hickeys and bruises on his neck--drawing Demyx's attention away from discussions of vampire leaders and back to, well...what he'd been doing.

"Okay, okay, another count where we agree to disagree," said Demyx with a sigh, rolling his eyes. Later that night, he'd look it up himself and see if he wasn't remembering wrong (perhaps he _was_, given his famously bad memory)... "But um--anyway, I think we should be getting home."

"Yes. Home," said Zexion, casting Demyx an odd, unreadable glance as he started up the path again, back in the direction where they'd come from. Demyx stood stupidly where he was for a moment, but then dashed up to catch up with Zexion, and took Zexion's chain in his hand again. The vampire ignored Demyx completely, focused only on the path in front of him, seemingly lost in deep thought.

"Zexy..." said Demyx quietly. Zexion didn't turn to look at him, but Demyx felt he had Zexion's attention, so he went on anyway. "Look--about what I said earlier tonight--"

"Forget it." Zexion's voice was cold, sharp--like ice. Demyx shivered, but plowed on nonetheless.

"I _meant _it. Everything I said. About loving you. I'm not under a spell, and I'm not delusional. I _do _love you."

The look that Zexion now cast Demyx was almost--_pitying. _"Do not speak such nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense," said Demyx, feeling sick inside. But he knew--he _knew _that there was no convincing Zexion. The vampire's expression was set, resolute; he would not listen to anything Demyx had to say.

Demyx supposed, somewhat sadly, that it was best this way. What else could a relationship between a vampire slayer and an incubus come to...? But that didn't stop his throat from feeling tight, didn't stop his eyes from stinging...and didn't stop him from _loving _Zexion anyway.

As they walked in silence, their steps ringing in the cool night, Demyx became aware that he was holding something in his tightly clenched fist. Slowly, he opened his fist--but already knew what he was going to see. A butterfly, iridiscent black, beautiful...crushed into a thousand tattered pieces.

* * *

Is that the main plot I detect in the distance? Is it? Oohh...

Anyhow, the next chapter is called "Hunt" and involves Roxas's first vampire hunt. So lots of action scenes and even (finally) the main plot (so it's not so far in the distance...). Preview here:

_But he'd done it. He had killed his first vampire. He was--a real slayer now, never mind that he didn't yet have his license. The gun bouncing against his thigh as he walked, the knives tucked inside his coat, the presence of blood drifting around him--these were enough to mark him as a real vampire slayer. Strangely, he felt none of the fear, none of the violent numbness either, of that first night when the vampire had burst out of the darkness and attacked him, Hayner, Pence, and Olette--_

Actually, I'm going to have to apologize soon because another update may not come for a while. I have an Academic Decathlon competition on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday (and I'm woefully unprepared...cough. Well, this one doesn't really matter), so expect no activity from me then. Also, I haven't finished the ninth chapter yet and I want to finish that before posting the eighth chapter...and finally I promised to write something for LarxZex day (12/6), so that'll prevent me from updating this story. Sorry about that! Hope no one minds...

In the meantime, send as many reviews as you can, and wish me luck in the AcaDeca tournament because I _desperately _need it. Haaa. But review por favor~


	8. Hunt

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_8. Hunt_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Bleh. Not so fond of this chapter, mostly because I don't think I wrote Xaldin quite right. Yes, it has Xaldin in it. And I don't like him that much, so that's probably why my interpretation of his character is a bit wonky. Oh well.

Also, I'm going back on my promise to always stay one chapter ahead of what I've published (just like for _The Captive_...), because I have _not _finished the ninth chapter yet. I'm almost done, but still have a scene or two to write, so...yeah. Expect slower updates, at least until winter break comes. Then I'll have all the free time to write I could want.

This chapter's a little more action-packed and Roxas-centric. To me, this marks the introduction of the main plot (about time!), and soon we'll be moving into part two. So yeah...sit back and try to enjoy the show.

* * *

Demyx did his very best to forget what had happened that night in the park.

It was hard. On the whole walk home, he'd kept the crushed butterfly clenched tightly in his fist, afraid to show Zexion--because he _knew _Zexion was going to seize on that and...and say what Demyx feared most. What Demyx himself believed the broken butterfly to symbolize... The instant he'd gotten home, he'd disposed of the butterfly's black remains in Axel's trash compactor along with leftovers from lunch, earning the gratitude of the scullery maid.

After that, Demyx resolved never to even _think _about what he'd said to Zexion last night--except on one count. He looked up the name "Xemnas" in the online slayer database, and even painstakingly combed through several dull old history tomes in Axel's library for the name. Much to his surprise, Demyx found that he'd been _right. _Every single account stated that Xemnas had been a prominent Algieran slayer way back in the eighteen-teens, renowned for his slaying prowess and ability to wield two stakes at once. He had died a tragic, early death in 1823, in the prime of his youth--he'd been only thirty-two. Nowhere did any of the accounts suggest that Xemnas was anything beyond a vampire slayer; _certainly _not an immortal vampire.

Hmm. So Zexion _could _be wrong. It made Demyx feel good in the strangest way--_finally _there was something he knew that Zexion didn't! Just when he'd starting thinking the vampire was all-knowing...

But Zexion had been so _sure _of it_. _He had spoken with absolute certainty when he'd stated that Xemnas was the leader of his coven, and Demyx by now knew Zexion well enough to know when Zexion was absolutely certain, or wasn't. And Zexion had believed beyond a shade of doubt that the man who led his coven was the same man whom Demyx knew as a long-dead slayer.

Dimly, Demyx sensed the faintest--the _faintest_--tremblings of something ominous, something looming in the distant horizon. The firsts seeds of a mystery, the first frosts of a winter of discontent. But he didn't know exactly what it was, so he chose to file this knowledge, along with everything else he'd said to Zexion that night, far in the back of his head and never think about it again.

* * *

Roxas's every nerve was quivering from eagerness. He simply couldn't sit still--his arms were shaking, his legs compelling him to get out in the dying sun and _run_--

It was strange. After he'd seen the monster slaughter Hayner, Pence, and Olette, Roxas had become convinced that he could never feel anything again. Nothing beyond a dead, numb emptiness gnawing in the pit of his abdomen, that burned and froze at the same time. He'd lost them. His friends. The people who'd seen him through thick and thin, teaching him how to live in the streets after he'd been thrown out of the orphanage. Hayner, always so cocky but a true leader; Pence, steadfast but a dreamer; Olette, the mother of the group but a closet romantic. Dead. Gone forever. The prey of a vampire.

Sometimes Roxas wondered why he hadn't just--why _he _hadn't just died too. Why he hadn't just taken his own life as he stood over his friends' mangled corpses, convinced that he no longer had anything to live for...

But instead, he sought revenge. His blood throbbing in his ears, his mind numb, Roxas had picked up a length of lead pipe and chased the hunter down. He had found the vampire, the horrible, blood-stained, snarling demon, and had--had _attacked _him. A part of Roxas wondered if he was trying to commit suicide, but no, he wasn't. He really _wanted _to kill the vampire. Even though he knew it was hopeless. Knew he was a stupid little boy whose only combat training came from fighting Seifer's gang in the streets, and had no idea how to fight a vampire. But he'd done it--

And he had been rescued. Rescued by Axel and Demyx, vampire slayers both--who had then gone on to _praise _his fighting abilities. That had caused a ray of light to shine in Roxas' grief-fogged mind--made him realize that maybe, even with his friends dead, he _did _have a place on the Earth--

He'd gone farther than he could even dream of. He had become--a vampire slayer's apprentice. Sometimes, deep in the night, Roxas would idly wonder what Hayner, Pence, and Olette would think about him _now. _He hated it whenever it happened because then it felt like he was trying to stab himself in the heart with an ice-cold knife, like all his insides were trying to claw themselves free from his chest, pouring out in an uncontrollable deluge of grief and agony. Roxas couldn't remember how many nights he'd spent, shivering and curled up tightly in a ball beneath his sheets, trying desperately to hold back the tide of pain, trying to keep his entire being from falling apart...

But at the very least, he was _feeling _something. There was none of that previous numbness. And it wasn't all so bad. There were good things about his current life, too--principal of them _Axel._

Roxas had never met anyone quite like Axel before. The slayer was confident, but it wasn't like Hayner's crass confidence or even Seifer's cocky confidence; it was a confidence born of a supreme _sureness _in himself. Axel couldn't be knocked down by a well-placed insult the way Seifer could have been. Though Roxas had never seen anyone insult Axel yet, he was quite sure that all the slayer would do was shrug it off and laugh in his friendly but confident way. It was just his nature.

(Even though he _had _been acting oddly these past few days...but he'd clarified everything last night, hadn't he?)

Axel had another side, though. A kind side. He never really bothered to let it on--Roxas could tell from the very start that Axel was someone who liked to keep his emotions to himself. But Axel _was _kind--he'd saved Roxas that first time, and last night, he had said (among many other things), in a far kinder and softer voice than Roxas had ever heard from the slayer before:

_"I...I really care about you, Roxas. You and Demyx both. You're both my students and I--I figured that if I...I mean--if anything were to ever happen to you...I wouldn't want that. I was just--look, you don't have to worry about _me. _I'm never going to let you down. I can promise you that much. So trust me, all right?"_

Roxas would. He had already made up his mind that first night when Axel had rescued him--he would follow the confident, red-haired vampire slayer to the ends of the earth itself.

Funny, he thought to himself sometimes, again reflecting on how _numb _he'd become after his friends' death. Funny how he told himself he'd never feel a single thing again, and yet here he was _feeling _all over the place: grief, unconditional trust..._eagerness._

Eagerness because today would be his first ever hunt.

Roxas finally decided that it was futile to convince his electrified-with-eagerness body to keep sleeping, and so he threw his blankets off, yanked on his clothes (new clothes; the first really clean clothes he'd ever owned), and dashed downstairs as fast as his legs could carry him. Axel's butler, Saunders, threw Roxas a dirty look as he passed, but Roxas didn't really care what Saunders thought. The butler seemed to hate his guts for some unfathomable reason. Oh well, Roxas couldn't do anything about Saunders's opinion of him so he decided to just live and let live.

When Roxas got downstairs, he was surprised to see that both Axel and Demyx were up, leaning over the dining room table and poring over several sheets of paper strewn over the table. Roxas ran to join them.

"Oh, morning, Roxas," said Demyx, looking up from a paper to flash Roxas a grin and a wave. Roxas found it wasn't hard to return the gesture--he quite liked Demyx. The blonde slayer was friendly and good-natured, and never begrudged Roxas' presence--even though it diverted Axel's attention from hunting with Demyx.

Not anymore, though. Now, Roxas could join them on their hunts.

"What are you reading?" said Roxas, walking over to Axel's side. Axel seemed absorbed by the paper he was holding, only inches from his face. Roxas had discovered that Axel was quite curiously far-sighted, requiring reading glasses to make sense of small text. The glasses lent Axel's roguish face an oddly scholar-like air.

"Oh? These?" Axel turned to face Roxas, pushing his glasses up to his forehead at the same time--he didn't like to be seen wearing them when he wasn't reading anything. "Slayer quotas for the month."

"I see," said Roxas. Axel had taught Roxas about slayer quotas--orders issued by the slayer HQ every month to vampire slayers around the world. In them, HQ laid down specific numbers of vampires each slayer should be able to bring in that month, according to his individual abilities. They were less absolute orders than a game, though; slayers competed strenuously to outdo each other and kill more vampires than their rivals. Some slayers tended to focus on only one aspect of the orders--deciding to only kill purebloods, for example, or in the case of weaker slayers, ignoring the pureblood orders completely and just killing as many made vampires as they could. HQ itself seemed to recognize the orders' game-like nature, because the numbers were random every month.

"Not too many made vampires this month," said Demyx lightly, folding his paper into quarters. "Just seventy-five..."

"Every competent slayer's gonna be doing twice that," said Axel, "so we'll aim for that too. Pureblood quotas are..." He slipped his glasses back on to examine the paper.

"They want twenty-three this month," said Demyx, and then, for some strange reason unleashed a forlorn sigh. Roxas frowned at Demyx, a little concerned for the blonde's well-being--what was bothering Demyx? Axel, however, spoke before Roxas could asked Demyx if he was okay.

"Twenty-three. Yeah...specific names, same old same old. Geez, _no one _seems able to catch this 'Sephiroth' guy...but since he was last sighted in Uzbekistan, I don't think he's a realistic quarry for us. As for North American purebloods...nothing different so far..."

"Hey wait, there's a new guy on the list," said Demyx. "Who's this 'Xaldin'? And look at this--he was last sighted not too far from our city..."

"Got his picture somewhere. HQ put out a specific wanted poster for him," said Axel, starting to dig through the pile of papers on top of the table. Roxas, however, sighed a corner of a page with an "X" as the first letter, and acting on his guess he reached for it and pulled it out for Axel. Axel smiled at Roxas when Roxas handed it to him.

'Thanks, Rox," he said. Roxas returned Axel's smile, his heart giving a strange little jolt. He didn't know why, but he really _liked _it when Axel smiled at him...maybe it was because he'd never before had an authority figure who'd ever been proud of him.

Or maybe it was something different. Something..._more._

"Took four victims already, this 'Xaldin'," said Axel, skimming over the poster. "All young, pretty, and female. Just showed up in the city...around a month ago or so, and since then seems to have been taking a victim every week. It's unknown how many made vampires are under his command. Slayer HQ in Canada's been trying to apprehend him for years, but no luck. Guess he decided to go south of the border for a change or whatever."

"Wow..." said Demyx, looking awestruck and revolted at the same time--almost as if he was trying to keep his breakfast down. "Uh...sounds dangerous..."

"Of _course _he's dangerous," said Axel, tossing asside the paper with a contempuous flick of the wrist. "That's why we're not going after him, you idiot. So--try for ten made vampires tonight?"

"Huh? Really? That _many?" _Demyx's voice rose in alarm. Roxas, too, was surprised--how could Axel think they could kill that many vampires in one night?

"Yeah, Dems," said Axel impatiently, already striding towards the armory--he'd shown that to Roxas on Roxas's second day. "Don't you watch the news? There's been an increase in vampire activity in the city, so we shouldn't have trouble locating a bunch to kill. Doing the city a service, y'know?"

Demyx made a noise that sounded something like a derisive snort--but started off towards the armory after Axel. Roxas stood uncertainly where he was, not sure if he should follow, but then Axel turned and beckoned him.

"Hurry up, Rox! What're you waiting for?"

"Oh--uh--coming," said Roxas, running after Axel, wondering why his heart was pounding so violently in his chest...

Just before they exited the dining room, however, a voice, quiet but cutting, drifted through the silence: "Excuse me. Are you all going already?"

All heads whipped around to face the staircase, so quickly that Roxas almost cracked his neck. Standing at the base of the stairs, his arms folded and surveying the scene impassively, was--a slight young man with a shock of slate-blue hair, his skin pale as death. _Axel's vampire. _Roxas felt a faint shiver run up the base of his spine--he'd only seen Axel's vampire once but that was already enough to convince him that he didn't want to again. There was just something insidious..._dangerous_...about the vampire.

_Of course there is, _Roxas scolded himself. _He's an undead bloodsucking monster. Of _course _he's dangerous!_

Axel reacted immediately, turning to face the vampire and oozing a thick cloud of black ill will. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I heard you gathering downstairs. You are quite loud, did you know that...? Anyhow--Master--if you would permit me, I have a request of you."The vampire's words were clipped and polite, and when Axel addressed him the vampire kept his head down, not meeting Axel's eyes.

A vein was twitching in Axel's forehead, and his lips moved to form the word "no". What he _said, _however, was, "Sure. Okay. Go ahead. But make it quick--I've got a _hunt _to go on..."

"Actually, Master," said the vampire, still politely, still not looking up, "the _hunt _is the reason I...that is to say, if you'd permit me--"

"Get _on _with it," said Axel, his tone biting. Roxas didn't like the change that had come over the slayer--his eyes had hardened, his face darkened. He was nothing like the cocky, amiable man that Roxas knew...dimly, out of the corner of his eye, Roxas noticed that Demyx had stiffened at Axel's sharp words, looking displeased. Roxas didn't know what that could mean...

"Very well, then, Master." The words were dull, flat, emotionless; but Roxas still felt uncomfortable. Hearing the vampire refer Axel as a "master" was just...so odd. "In brief...I wish to--I wish to come with you."

"_What?" _Axel's voice rose in alarm, and he took an ominous step forward. Demyx's jaw actually dropped in surprise, and Roxas, too, could only stand where he was, frozen on the spot, quite sure that he, too, was gaping open-mouthed at Axel's vampire.

If the vampire noticed their responses he didn't seem to care. He continued, in as lightly polite a tone as before, "Pardon me, Master; I couldn't help but listen. Especially the part where you said there was increasing vampire activity..."

"Hey, if you think this is an escape opportunity--" began Axel, his voice acquiring a dangerous edge.

"I think no such thing," replied the vampire, as evenly as before. "I know you won't afford me an opportunity to escape, Master. In fact...I'd like to volunteer my services."

"Your _services?" _The vein on Axel's temple was twitching so violently that Roxas felt the sudden irrational fear that it would explode. "Look, you little...I mean, what, you expect to have some massive orgy out there--"

"I _mean, _Master, that I am a vampire," said the vampire, for the first time allowing a slight hint of annoyance to enter his voice. "I can sense other vampires. You wanted to kill ten tonight--? Well, with my help you could do double that. Perhaps more. It depends on how _active _the vampires really are..."

"But Zexion," said Demyx (so that was the vampire's name--Zexion), intercepting before Axel could say anything, "why would you _want _to kill vampires...? It doesn't make much sense to me..."

"Because they're not _mine," _said Zexion coldly, holding a finger up to shush Demyx. "Why should I give a damn about those mindless servants of other vampires? All they are to me are rivals for food. The more of them there are, the less food there is for me. It is a basic tenet of survival. Besides...I'd like to get out for a short while." He threw Axel a brief, but meaningful, glance. "I behaved quite well last night, didn't I...? Demyx returned alive, at the very least."

"That--it--" Axel's face was contorting in all sorts of nasty ways, between anger and hatred and disgust; while Demyx had become strangely glum, folding his arms and becoming immersed in floor. Roxas started to feel like he was the only normal, sane, person in the entire room. "_Look_, you little monster--don't be such a little smartass--"

"You had better make your decision quickly, Master." Was it just Roxas's imagination, or had Zexion let a faint derisive note enter his voice at the last word? "It is getting dark outside, and you wouldn't want more competition from other hunters, would you?"

"Fuck you," replied Axel in a fit of maturity. Roxas cast Axel a helpless glance, which Axel ignored. "All right, all right. Come over here!"

The last words were barked with the authority of an order--unpleasant, coming from Axel. The vampire obeyed in an instant, sliding away from the staircase to come to a stop only inches from Axel. Roxas's heart twinged slightly when he saw how close Zexion was to Axel, but he didn't know why. The weird uncomfortable feeling in his chest only increased when Axel gripped the vampire by the shoulder (Zexion hissed and flinched, for some reason), and with the other hand grabbed the vampire by the wrist, tightening his grip around the silver cuff on Zexion's wrist. The vampire jerked back at the motion, letting out a sharp gasp of pain, but Axel drew him closer, so close that their faces were almost touching (again, a twinge at Roxas's heart), and hissed, in such a low voice that Roxas had to strain to hear it:

"_You can come, but one move--ONE wrong move--and I will not HESITATE to kill you. Understood?"_

Roxas didn't hear Zexion's response, but the vampire's lips moved to form the words, "Yes, Master."

"Good." Axel shoved Zexion aside in one brusque motion. Roxas didn't know whether to be disquieted by the rudeness of the gesture, or relieved because...what? Axel was no longer touching Zexion? "Now, come on. All of you. Let's go. Chop, chop. I'm not waiting for any of you."

Axel was in a bad mood, thought Roxas--and he didn't like it. He silently followed the still-steaming slayer to the armory, his heart still thudding violently in his chest. And he didn't know why.

* * *

The report from a pistol, a shuddering half-groan, half-roar, as the wild-eyed, pasty-faced creature slammed hard against the ground--

"Seven!" shouted both Demyx and Axel at the same time, Axel giving his gun a casual twirl. Both he and Demyx turned to face each other, scowling heavily.

"That was my kill," said Demyx.

"Like _hell _it was. That was totally _me,_" shot back Axel. "You shot a second after me, so it was me that killed it. Got it memorized?"

"Hey, flatter yourself if you want," shouted Demyx, jabbing his finger into Axel's chest. "_I _shot first and I know it."

"Yeah, I bet you're one of those idiots who thinks Greedo shot first," said Axel, rolling his eyes.

"No fucking way. Han shot first and so did I, and what does Star Wars have to do with this?"

"It is Demyx's kill. He shot first." Zexion's voice, cold and toneless, cut through Demyx and Axel's squabble. He unpeeled himself from the wall he'd been leaning against, stepping lightly between Axel and Demyx. Roxas couldn't get used to the way the vampire moved--his every motion was filled with grace and purpose, and he didn't seem to walk so much as _drift _wherever he wanted.

"Yeah, _you'd _take Demyx's side," said Axel, the vein throbbing again in his forehead. He spat on the vampire's corpse, as if he just wanted something to be angry about. "And how the fuck do you know, anyway?"

"I _heard," _said Zexion icily. "If you do not wish to believe me, then by all means go ahead. It does not change the truth. That is Demyx's kill. If you so desire, you can make up the lost kill by heading south, towards the projects. Three vampires are gathered in the abandoned public housing complex. Actually..." The vampire folded one arm across his chest and lifted the other to his chin, seemingly becoming immersed in thought. "They seem to be waiting for someone. So who knows? You might get a pureblood kill in there."

"Fine, you take it." Axel didn't so much say this as _snarl _it at Demyx, before whirling around and turning south, his coat flapping behind him and his hand on Zexion's chain, compelling the vampire to stumble after him. Roxas didn't hesitate to follow, and Demyx joined them after he'd obtained his proof of kill.

It was now past midnight and the moon was high in the sky. The night was cold, but Roxas found he didn't mind--his adrenaline warmed him enough to keep moving. Already, Axel and Demyx had killed five vampires between the two of them, and even Roxas had managed to take down one. Axel had congratulated him to the skies, embarrassing Roxas somewhat--he hadn't _meant _to do it; the vampire had just ambushed them and Roxas had reacted on instinct, whipping out his gun and shooting the vampire straight in the head. A purely lucky shot.

But he'd _done _it. He had killed his first vampire. He was--a _real _slayer now, never mind that he didn't yet have his license. The gun bouncing against his thigh as he walked, the knives tucked inside his coat, the presence of blood drifting around him--these were enough to mark him as a real vampire slayer. Strangely, he felt none of the fear, none of the violent numbness either, of that first night when the vampire had burst out of the darkness and attacked him, Hayner, Pence, and Olette--

Just a fierce, steady resolve. The resolve to get _revenge. _To clear every vampire from the streets so they would become forever safe, forever free from cruel and random attacks such as the one that had torn his friends from him.

"Four," said Zexion tonelessly, breaking the intense silence the slayers had been engaged in. "Four more have arrived. I don't think this is a gang. It's hard to tell what they're thinking--thoughtless monsters they are--but they're most definitely waiting for _someone_...their lord, most probably..."

"Lord?" Demyx's throat convulsed, and he suddenly turned several shades paler. "Um, Axel, I don't think this is such a good idea..."

"Shut the fuck up," was Axel's rude reply. "If you're scared, you can run and hide. _I'm _going on ahead."

True to his word, Axel marched resolutely ahead, dragging Zexion beside him. Roxas and Demyx hung back, walking at a more stately pace.

"Axel is really intense, isn't he?" said Roxas. Demyx turned to Roxas, looking surprised.

"...oh. Yeah. I guess he is," he said, and shrugged. "I don't know. He's always been intense..."

Again, that strange twinge at Roxas's heart...Roxas shook his head to clear it. "You've known him for a long time?"

"Uh-huh. Twelve years, now...I think. I'm kind of bad at math..." Demyx laughed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Roxas laughed, too; he couldn't help but feel happy with Demyx. Demyx was just a happy person, overall. "Even though he didn't speak to me for three of those years...but whatever. That's life for you."

_Twelve years_... Roxas had to admit that he was somewhat jealous. He wished he could have known Axel for that long... "You guys must be really close."

"Not really." A trace of sadness entered Demyx's words, and he lowered his head slightly. "Not as much as I'd like...the thing is, _no one _gets close to Axel. I've known him for as I long as I have and even then I feel like I don't know the _real _Axel. Who can ever tell what he's thinking?"

"Yeah," said Roxas because he had nothing else to say to this. His heart was thudding so violently he thought that it could be heard a mile away. He quickened his pace, and Demyx followed suit, neither speaking.

The abandoned housing project loomed in the near distance, a dark and threatening sillhouette in the silvery moonlight. Roxas knew the complex, though not well--sometimes he and his friends had used it as shelter during the day. But not often, and they always left before night--none of them ever said out loud why, but deep inside it seemed they all knew there was something dangerous about the place...

Well, now Roxas knew. It was the lair of vampires.

As they came closer, Roxas could see the vampires now--seven dark shapes huddled near the base of the construction site, oozing an ominous intent. He shivered, slightly, but told himself that he was being unreasonable...there was nothing to be afraid of; they were just a bunch of evil bloodsucking monsters...

All right, maybe there _was _something to fear. But in Axel's presence Roxas refused to let any of his fear show, and so straightened his back and squared his shoulders, hoping that the violent thudding of his heart against his ribcage didn't betray him...

The slayers exited the dark alleyway they'd been creeping in, entering the wide, dusty construction lot. Roxas suddenly felt vulnerable, out here in the open...but quashed his feelings and marched bravely by Axel's side. The seven hulking figures straightened from where they'd been hunching, turning to face the approaching slayers, wafting an unmistakable smell of blood and darkness in the slayers' direction. The smell of a vampire.

(Zexion was hanging back in the alley, watching the scene dispassionately--he had always hung back at every killing. Roxas didn't know why, but he supposed it was because Zexion didn't want to fight his own kind. Or maybe Zexion couldn't fight at all. He _was _an incubus, right...?)

"Hey, we interrupting anything?" said Axel, raising his hand in a friendly manner. His only response was a collective hiss from all seven vampires.

Axel didn't seem perturbed. He just cocked his head to the side and said, "All right. Don't want to be friendly? Fine by me!"

And in that instant, he yanked out his two guns, firing straight at the gang of vampires. It took Roxas and Demyx less than a second to join in. The ring of shots and the howling cries of the vampires tore through the silence of the night, but Roxas barely heard--he only heard the thunderous pounding of blood in his ears, drowning out all other sounds. He was focused on only one thing, and that was slamming on the trigger over and over again and unleashing silver bullet after silver bullet into the dark crowd, at the monsters, the _devils_--nothing else existed--

Roxas fired until his arms were numb and he'd ran out of ammunition. Annoyed, he scrambled in his pockets for more ammunition--he wanted to keep on killing them, the same monsters that'd killed his best friends in the world--but Axel placed his hand on Roxas's shoulder, stopping him. Roxas jumped, startled--Axel's hand was surprisingly warm.

"Eager much, Rox? That's good, that's good...but take a look." Axel swept his arm before him, at the construction site. Roxas stared--and saw nothing but a few mangled piles of black, leaking dark blood into the dust.

"We..." he paused. "We killed..."

"That was easy, huh? They didn't even put up a fight," said Axel with a good-natured laugh, striding confidently towards the vampire bodies, his still clutching Roxas's shoulder. Roxas didn't know whether to shake it off or not, but he liked the comforting, heavy warmth of Axel's hand on his shoulder. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud...

"Yeah," said Demyx, frowning. He was already crouched over one of the bodies, gingerly poking it with one of his knives. "It seemed a bit..._too_...easy, don't you agree?"

"What the fuck do you mean, Dems? They were just weakl--_LOOK OUT!!!"_

Demyx screamed at the same time that Axel did, as the vampire he'd been inspecting leapt up in a whirl of tattered dark cloth and flying splatters of blood, grabbing Demyx by the throat and slamming him, hard, into the heavily graffitied plywood wall. Demyx's entire body convulsed, and, with a shuddering gasp, he drove the knife into the vampire's chest--but missed the vampire's heart by a long shot, piercing it instead near the abdomen.

"_Demyx!" _howled Axel, yanking a gun out of its holster and aiming at the vampire--but not firing. Roxas knew why: If Axel fired, he couldn't be sure if he would hit the vampire or Demyx. "Damn you...oh, hell. Oh..._hell_...no! You _can't _be!"

"Huh? What? What is it, Axel?" cried Roxas anxiously, seeing the sudden horror that had come over the slayer's face, seeing Axel slowly lower his gun arm and take one step, then two, backwards...

Slowly, insidiously, the vampire turned around, lowering the hood of its bloodstained cloak, a sadistic smirk spreading across his face. A smirk on a hard, chiseled face, the deep purple eyes glittering with a maniacally satisfied light. The vampire's hair hung in heavy dark dreadlocks around his face, and he was tall, strong, well-built. As he fixed his eyes on Axel, a faint wind stirred Roxas's hair, chilling him to the bone.

"Y...you..." whispered Axel. He stood ramrod straight, but his fingers were trembling. Very slightly, almost imperceptibly, but Roxas could see, and it worried him. "You're..."

"You're right. They _were _weaklings," said Xaldin with a low, satisfied chuckle, pulling the knife out of his abdomen and tossing it aside casually, not even seeming to care that it was made of silver. "A fine trap, wasn't it? I admit that I was hoping to attract slayers of somewhat...higher...caliber than _you_. But oh well, beggars can't be choosers, I suppose."

"Ngh Axel," groaned Demyx, his voice thin and weak. His fingers were wrapped around Xaldin's wrist, but the vampire's powerful grip wouldn't budge. "Don't--"

"How did you hide your presence?" said Axel, his voice sharp, but trembling beneath the commanding veneer. Roxas took a step closer to Axel, terrified that his heart was going to burst from worry. He'd never--_never_--seen Axel like this before... "_How! _I should've sensed you--"

"You would be surprised at the things you _don't _know, Axel," said Xaldin, his tone friendly--but again brimming with a sadistic delight beneath.

"Don't call me by name," said Axel as sharply as before. Roxas kept his eyes fixed on Xaldin, just as Axel was--but out of the corner of his eyes he could see that Axel was reloading his gun behind his back. "And quit it with the games. Let go of him."

"I don't think I will," said Xaldin. "What's this _human _slayer to you, anyhow?"

"That is irrelevent," said Axel through his teeth, anger coloring his voice and darkening his brow. Roxas had never seen Axel so angry before--not even with Zexion--and again he couldn't help a strange spike of jealousy. But no, these were _awful _feelings...he should be feeling bad for Demyx, not irrationally wishing that he was in Demyx's place--

"I'm sorry Axel," wheezed Demyx. He seemed to be turning progressively bluer, but was still struggling to force words from his lips. "This is...this is my fault. I'm just...an idiot...like always..."

"Don't say shit like that," snapped Axel--and he yanked his gun from behind his back and fired straight at Xaldin's heart--

Only to have another vampire--one of the "corpses"--leap up and intercept the shot for its master. The vampire convulsed, blood spurting from its chest, before collapsing with a shuddering sigh and a long, gurgling exhalation into the dust again.

But more were rising. One vampire, then two, then three and then four and five--all shuffling to awkward standing positions, even though their bodies were riddled with silver bullets and barely holding together. But they were--they were up, and alive--or as alive as vampires could be in the first place--

"What the fuck _is _this?" swore Axel as the five not-quite-dead vampires surrounded him and Roxas in a loose circle. "Are they vampires or _zombies?"_

"Are you aware of a certain spell?" said Xaldin, his tone gloating. A stronger wind was blowing now, whipping Roxas's hair into his eyes, causing his coat to flap madly around his ankles. "Do you know that if a vampire takes the blood of four virgin girls, and feeds it to his followers on the night of a new moon, they will be practically invulnerable...?"

"What kind of shit is that!" shouted Axel, fury causing his words to shake. The vampires were advancing, penning Axel and Roxas in with each shuddering step they took...Roxas backed into Axel, clutching his gun, but it was useless, empty. His mind was blank; he didn't know what to do.

Then the vampires attacked.

Roxas hadn't even seen the vampire move before a heavy body wrapped in shreds of dark cloth and reeking of blood slammed into him, knocking him to the dusty ground. The boy reacted immediately, swinging his gun in a arc above him and slamming it into the side of the vampire's death-white face. The vampire let out a howl of pain as the silver-plated gun burned its skin, but refused to release its grip on Roxas's throat. Roxas struggled against the monster, his head spinning, the scent of blood and darkness overwhelming his nostrils--he continued beating it with the gun, kicked and thrashed and threw futile blow after futile blow...

"_Demyx!" _Axel's cry, raw with agony, rang through the night, and Roxas caught a brief glimpse of Axel struggling wildly in the grip of three vampires, who were tugging him back even as he fought to throw them off, fought to stumble towards the construction project and Xaldin--

Xaldin who was--was _rising, _jumping from level to rickety level, still clinging tightly to a white-faced Demyx. He was taunting Axel, laughing, shouting, "Do you want to save him? You want to save your little human slayer friend? Then go right ahead! What are you _waiting _for?"

"_Damn_--_DAMN YOU!!!" _howled Axel, fighting like an animal against his captors. A fourth vampire had joined in, hooking its claws in Axel's coat and helping to drag the slayer backwards, even as Axel struggled forward, clawing so hard at the ground that his fingernails bled, rage--anguish--desperation--twisting his face, wild roars tearing from his throat. "_DAMN IT--DEMYX--"_

"Come and get him," taunted Xaldin, now standing on a long, slender pole on the very top of the project. He balanced on the pole with a surprising grace, looking so steady it was almost like he hadn't left solid ground at all. Demyx was trembling and groaning in Xaldin's grip, though, and looked slightly green--he obviously wasn't handling being this high so well.

Axel's only response was an inarticulate roar of rage. Roxas didn't get to see more because the vampire on top of him rolled over, bearing him face-down into the dust. Roxas struggled and kicked against the vampire, madly trying to scratch its face because he'd lost his gun--he could feel the knives clanking inside his jacket but couldn't quite reach them--

"Come, come! Your little friend needs saving!" Xaldin continued crooning, his words like thunderclaps in Roxas's ears. Roxas finally managed to locate one of his knives, and with a snarl he stabbed into the vampire--but missed its heart. The knife instead sunk between the vampire's shoulder blades--the vampire roared in rage-from-agony, spraying Roxas's face with foul-smelling, blood-flecked saliva--

"_Damn it YOU!!!" _Axel half-roared, half-snarled. But somehow, Roxas sensed that Axel was no longer addressing Xaldin, but someone else--someone hiding in the shadows behind them, quietly watching. "_HELP--damn it--help us you fucking--you care about him, don't you, then DO something--don't just STAND there--FUCK--"_

"Have you finally snapped?" said Xaldin with a low chuckle. "What's the matter, Axel? Why aren't you helping your friend?"

"_I AM_--_you fucking--are you LISTENING to me, you fucking little monster?" _Axel was alternating wildly between addressing Xaldin and Zexion, but neither vampire seemed to be paying him much heed. Xaldin continued standing atop his pole, chuckling as he dangled the trembling Demyx precariously over the edge. Zexion remained silent, stolidly hanging back in the dark alleyway.

No one would help them. No one but themselves.

"You don't seem like you're putting much effort into it," said Xaldin disinterestedly. "He doesn't seem very interested in saving you, does he?" This was addressed at Demyx. Roxas couldn't hear Demyx's reply, but he saw very clearly tha Demyx was shaking his head, over and over again...

Locating his other knife, Roxas made another wild stab at the vampire's heart. This time, to his numb shock, he made it--he first saw the knife disappear up to the handle inside the vampire's chest, and then a deluge of dark blood burst from the vampire's chest, splattering all over Roxas, as the vampire stared in stupid surprise down at him.. Then, with a tremor that coursed through its entire body, it rolled to the side and fell, hitting the dust with a muffled thump.

Roxas wasted no time crawling back to his feet, his heart pounding a marathon, knowing that the vampire was only going to get up again. He sprinted across the dust, running for the rickety tower, not thinking about anything but _Demyx, _dangling helplessly up there in the grip of the sadistic vampire--

But as Roxas approached, a sudden gust of wind blasted him straight in the chest and knocked him off his feet. His cry of surprise died in his throat as he was flung back several yards, slamming into the dust beside Axel and skinning his elbows. He struggled up again, but it was difficult--the wind had picked up, assaulting him in a tumultous gale, whipping up dust storms that stung his eyes and blocked his vision...

"_Demyx! Demyx!" _He could still, faintly, hear Axel's furious roars. But Roxas focused less on Axel and more on stumbling to his feet, struggling through the dust storm in a vain effort to find the construction project and scale it and rescue Demyx--

But he was knocked down by a clawed hand snatching the back of his throat and slamming him hard to the ground, driving the breath from his lungs. Roxas struggled, not caring if this was the same vampire he'd just "killed" or one of the vampires that had been attacking Axel. He suddenly wished he'd pulled out his knives after sticking them into that vampire--now he had no weapons--

"Your little friend is quite fun." Xaldin's voice cut through the commotion with the clarity of a resounding bell, slicing through the fog that had clouded Roxas's mind. To Roxas's astonishment, the wind died down too--and the dust cascaded back to the ground, leaving the air clear again. With the roaring wind gone, the silence pressed heavy, ominous, against Roxas's ears...

"D-damn..." hissed Axel from where he lay on the ground, piled on by five vampires. "Demyx..."

"I think I'll play with him for a little bit," continued Xaldin, and Roxas shuddered at the level of sheer _sadism _permeating the vampire's voice. "I suspect I won't grow tired of him for a long, long time..."

"Axel..." Demyx's voice was thin and broken, barely audible, but in the heavy silence even the smallest sounds rang unnaturally loud in Roxas's ears.

"_Don't--!" _cried Axel, but it was too late--a sudden gust had started blowing again, whipping up clouds of dust, blocking the slayers' vision. Roxas struggled to keep his eyes open, but the stinging dust unrelentingly assaulting his eyes was too much to handle, and despite himself he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He strained to keep his ears open, though, for Demyx's voice, or even Xaldin's--but heard nothing above the howling wind.

After what seemed like an eternity of lying huddled to the ground, bearing out the windstorm, the maelstrom finally died. At first, Roxas remained in his prone position, afraid to move--afraid of what he was going to see. With the howling storm gone, Roxas could now hear nothing but the violent beating of his own heart, and the silence--vast, empty, a presence with the weight of the entire universe pressing down on him, ringing in his ears...

Slowly, unwillingly, Roxas hauled himself back up, wincing when he put pressure on his skinned elbows. He almost didn't want to look at Axel, but his traitorous eyes made him turn in Axel's direction and stare--

Axel was kneeling in the dust, his vampire assailants gone. His hands were clenched into fists, his face a terrible mask of anguish. Roxas's heart gave a cold jolt when he saw the older slayer, at his _mentor, _in such pain--he wanted to comfort Axel but had no idea how--

"Demyx," whispered Axel, his voice low, torn, and he drove a fist into the ground. "Demyx...damn it...Demyx...."

"Axel--" said Roxas, just as softly as Axel was speaking, holding out his hand to--to what? Stop Axel? He didn't know--

"_Demyx!!!" _screamed Axel, and the name reverberated in the still night silence, echoing across the empty lot and seeming to shatter the stars themselves. "_DEMYX!!!"_

No answer came to Axel's desperate cry. The pole atop the construction complex was empty, bare as the trunk of a dying tree. There was no sign that Xaldin and Demyx had ever stood atop it.

* * *

Not terribly fond of this chapter, overall, but whatever...I feel like Xaldin needed a better reason to kidnap Demyx...sigh.

Chapter nine is better, in that, well...it's got a _ton _of AkuZeku abuse in it. So whee, enjoy that. Here's the preview for it (called "Blame")--

_"What the fuck do you think I mean!" roared Axel back, his voice just as angry. He grabbed Zexion by the arm and jerked him back up to his feet. Zexion met Axel's eyes--and it took all of his self-control from taking a shocked step backwards. He'd never seen Axel like this before. Never. Not with such anger burning in his green eyes, twisting his features... The slayer was covered with drying blood and injuries, but he didn't seem to care. It was like his rage was keeping him on his feet, electrifying him, keeping him alive..._

See? Abuse a-plenty. But I won't post it until I finish chapter ten, so...again, a slow update. Sorry.

In the meantime, please review!


	9. Blame

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_9. Blame_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, ABUSE, NONCON, RAPE, GRAPHIC SCENES, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Again, going back on promises. I only have a few paragraphs left on chapter ten, though. But again...expect slow updates.

This is a fairly long chapter (although ten seems to be clocking at the longest chapters so far), but hopefully you should enjoy it because it's very Zexion-centric, and has...lots of abuse in it. Ha haaaa. Plus, it explains Zexy's reasons for not doing anything in the last chapter, and...well, it's very Zemyx-y. So read on, and enjoy!

* * *

Zexion had no idea how he had done it.

The instant he had felt Xaldin's presence--wild, like the wind, but dark and ominous--he had activated his defenses. It was almost an automatic instinct--here was a stronger vampire, and _he had to hide. _He didn't stop to wonder _why _Xaldin was here, or _what _he was doing. He'd just assumed that the vampire had been sent by the coven to find _Zexion, _never mind that the Superior and Saix had never before paid Zexion even a modicum of attention...

And Zexion knew what would happen if Xaldin found him. He would be taken back to the coven--and he would be punished. Punished for allowing a slayer to capture him...punished for having even chosen Axel as a victim in the _first _place. He knew the codes, all of them. Only special vampires chosen by the Superior had the privilege of going after the slayer families. But Axel's window had been open and he had seemed so _tempting _and Zexion had just--

Never mind why. He was too focused on just _blocking _his own presence to think, and throughout the entire ordeal--for as long as he could, at the dim periphery of his awareness, sense Xaldin--he had struggled to hide himself. Struggled to raise every single conceivable mental barrier, every blockade and shield, that he had, and prevent even a single idle thought from floating free and betraying his presence--

It had taken him so much effort that he'd fallen to his knees, bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood, causing his entire body to shiver and convulse. It was getting too much--he couldn't maintain it for much longer--

And then he sensed it--Xaldin's presence was gone. With a great, shuddering sigh of relief, Zexion released the barriers over his mind, and almost tumbled face-down into the dirty alleyway--he had to throw out an arm to catch himself on the wall. Still, he felt weaked, drained...yet oddly exhilarated. He had done it; his power had held. Held against a vampire supposedly much stronger than himself...

His happiness lasted for about seven seconds before a rough hand snatched him by the collar and slammed him so hard into the wall that stars burst in his vision. Zexion gasped, his hands automatically flying out to wrap around the wrist of his tormentor, still grinding him into the wall--

Shit. How come he hadn't been aware of Axel's approach? He'd been so drained by the effort of blocking his presence from Xaldin that he hadn't sensed Axel's scent, dark and overpowering and drowning him in smoke, cinnamon, _fury_--

The torment wasn't over yet. With a thunderous force Axel's fist slammed against the side of Zexion's face, dazing him even more. He tasted blood in his mouth but wasn't sure if that was from the force of the blow itself, or from him biting his tongue to keep from screaming.

Another blow, on the other side of his face. Zexion's head spun and he coughed out blood--what the hell was _happening_--what had set off Axel _this _time--

"You little _bitch!" _Axel was howling as he slammed Zexion into the wall over and over again, causing stars to burst in his vision and his stomach to lurch every time his head made contact with the wall. "_You fucking little BITCH!!! Damn you to fucking HELL!!"  
_

"Wh--what--what did I do _now?" _hissed Zexion between blows. He could barely think coherently now--brightly colored spots were spinning in his vision-- "S-stop--"

"You don't _know? _Don't _lie, _you fucking monster!" Again, his head was slammed into the wall. Something wet and warm started spreading over the back of his head... "Why the fuck didn't you _do _anything?"

"What--what do you _mean?" _gasped Zexion. Axel chose to vary his approach and hit Zexion, hard, in the side of the face. Zexion tumbled, falling to his hands and knees on the dirty asphalt, spitting out blood. His head was spinning wildly and the coppery tang of blood in his mouth overpowered all other scents. _His _blood.

"What the fuck do you _think _I mean!" roared Axel back, his voice just as angry. He grabbed Zexion by the arm and jerked him back up to his feet. Zexion met Axel's eyes--and it took all of his self-control from taking a shocked step backwards. He'd _never _seen Axel like this before. Never. Not with such anger burning in his green eyes, twisting his features... The slayer was covered with drying blood and injuries, but he didn't seem to care. It was like his rage was keeping him on his feet, electrifying him, keeping him alive...

"I don't know," whispered Zexion back, struggling to regain his failed nerve. _What could Axel do to him in his anger? _Before, he could always--somewhat--predict Axel's actions, but now...he had no idea. Axel could _hurt _him, hurt him beyond anything he'd ever done before...

"Like fuck you don't!" was Axel's furious reply, and quick as a flash of lightning his leg shout out and he kicked Zexion, hard, in the stomach. The vampire almost tumbled down again--only Axel's relentless, bruising, grip on his arm kept him from falling.

"I honestly have no idea--" Zexion was ashamed at how the words came out, broken and choking, but how could he talk when he was coughing up a torrent of blood? "Why are you--"

"It's _Demyx, _you little bitch!" snarled Axel, and he contempuously released his grip on Zexion and pushed the vampire aside. Zexion stumbled and fell, bumping against the wall, his head spinning.

_Demyx? _

Demyx.

Zexion tensed suddenly, now aware of nothing but--but his own scent, lightly clinging to himself; to Axel's scent, clouded with fury; to the clean and pure scent a few yards behind Axel, where Roxas stood watching the scene in wide-eyed horror. But there was one scent he couldn't detect. A scent of sea-salt, of a gentle ocean breeze..._Demyx's._

"What," said Zexion, jerking up sharply to meet Axel's eyes, "happened to Demyx?"

"Don't be a fucking smartass. _You _know what happened and _you _did nothing to stop it!" snarled Axel, though thankfully he didn't hit Zexion--he just pointed an accusing finger at the vampire trembling against the wall.

Zexion was about to shoot back a retort to the effect of thinking before accusing, and just what the hell had happened to Demyx anyway, whatever it was it wasn't Zexion's fault--hell, it was probably Axel's! But before he could, Roxas spoke, his voice high and trembling.

"Um--uh--Axel--I think--I mean--um--I think he's telling the truth. He...he really doesn't know."

Axel whirled around to face Roxas, looking alarmed. He stood where he was, his every muscle tensed, looking for all the world like a predator prepared to spring--but then relaxed with a shuddering sigh, turning away from Roxas. "Oh, _I _see what this is about."

"No, _really, _Axel--" Roxas's voice had acquired an edge of desperation. He, too, was covered with blood and a few bruises and scrapes, but like Axel didn't seem to care at all about his injuries. "I really think he's--"

"You're under his _spell, _aren't you?" continued Axel, talking above Roxas, his tone heavy with disapproval. "That's it. He's cast a spell on you and now--"

"No! I'm telling the truth!" cried Roxas, his voice shaking from hysteria. "I mean it, Axel--I mean, I know it's awful what happened to Demyx but this is--you're being--"

Zexion decided to interrupt before this little proto-argument between Axel and Roxas bloomed into a full-blown fight, as fun as that might be to witness. Plus, it'd distract Axel's attention from him. But now, there were things he _had _to know--like just what the hell had happened to Demyx.

"Tell me. I need to know. What happened to Demyx?"

Both Axel and Roxas whirled around to face Zexion, bearing identical deer-in-the-headlights expressions. Zexion suppresed the strange, very incongruous urge to laugh, and met their startled stares with an even one of his own. Well, he _hoped _his gaze was even, but wasn't sure how well he was hiding his pain...again, his stomach lurched, and his head throbbed, sending more blood pulsing from the injury on the back of his head. No, this wouldn't do...this _wouldn't_...do...

"You already _know," _snapped Axel, the surprised expressing dissolving into one of pure hatred. "All you're trying to do is squander time, so your _comrade _can spirit Demyx out of the city--"

"Demyx got...Demyx got..._taken," _said Roxas, his gentle voice interrupting Axel's sputters of rage. "The vampire--Xaldin--he took Demyx his...prisoner..."

"What?" Zexion stiffened, feeling every muscle tense. A faint feeling of foreboding started growing in his stomach, but he blocked it out--he had to keep his wits about him. "Why? Why didn't you do anything to stop it--"

"Oh, fuck, yeah, _listen _to the hypocritcal shit you're spouting," said Axel, letting out a low, macabre chuckle. Zexion wondered for a wild moment whether Axel had finally gone insane. He knew it'd been coming for a long while...

"Axel, I really think he doesn't know--" Roxas placed a hand on Axel's shoulder, causing Axel to whip around to face him. "I mean, why would he pretend he _doesn't _know what happened?"

"That's easy! Like I said, buying time!" snapped Axel, throwing Roxas's hand off his shoulder--a very real look of hurt spasmed across Roxas's face. "And _you're _in cahoots to him! Listen to what you're saying! You're sticking up for a _vampire!"_

"Axel, look, be sensible--" cried Roxas. Ha. Axel, _sensible? _Axel and sensible were like oil and water. "What's--what's hitting _him _going to do--to do for Demyx? We have to get to the slayer authority...report Demyx missing...we have to do this the legal way! We're wasting time, just standing here and--" Roxas threw a brief, wild look at Zexion, and said nothing more.

Zexion's respect for Roxas swelled with every word the boy spewed. Clearly, _he _was sensible and sane, unlike the mad-with-rage Axel. Perhaps the boy would a good influence on Axel, or perhaps not. But certainly, a little _sanity _was in order here after all that had happened...

"The fuck, Roxas!" Axel's voice was raw with true hurt--he really _did _think that Roxas was betraying him! And just by being sensible, too. "What's gotten into you?"

"I should be asking _you _that question!" cried back Roxas in a burst of sudden self-confidence. Again, Zexion found himself grudgingly admitting that he had to respect Roxas. "C'mon--let's get back home--Axel--" With the last word, he placed a hand, gently, on Axel's shoulder again. Axel shuddered, but this time did not throw it off.

For a moment, judging by the way that Axel's face was contorting unpleasantly and the way his lips were moving soundlessly, as if he was trying to form insults and retorts, it seemed that Axel wouldn't follow Roxas' suggestion. But then, with a great sigh that seemed to convulse through his entire body, the red-haired slayer nodded slowly, and turned around to face Zexion again. The rage had left his expression, to be replaced by a cold hardness--Zexion wasn't sure if this was an improvement. Axel beckoned with one finger, and Zexion obeyed automatically.

Axel grabbed Zexion's cuff chain with a hard jerking motion, causing Zexion to stumble forward and almost fall. He managed to regain his balance by the time Axel had started marching off, turning back in the direction they had come from. Axel strode quickly, almost as if he was _trying _to make Zexion stumble to catch up with him. Roxas trailed behind like Axel's pale shadow, and together the three drifted their way home.

_Home. _No, not home, thought Zexion with a strong feeling of distaste. To him, Axel's expensive villa was nothing more than a prison. A place where he was confined against his will and would gladly escape if given the slightest opportunity. That was all. Nothing more.

Except, then...why had he come so close to calling it "home" when Demyx had been around...?

* * *

"Master Axel!" cried the butler Saunders the instant Axel, Zexion, and Roxas entered, alarm causing his eyes to bug. "What happened--Master Axel--are you all right? Do you require a clean change of clothes--?"

"Fuck off," snarled Axel in one breath at the butler. Saunders stood at the base of the stairs, looking stupidly wide-eyed for a moment, but then turned heel and marched up the stairs, muttering under his breath. With that out of the way, Axel didn't hesitate to drag Zexion towards--the opposite stairs, the ones that led to...

Funny. It had been little more than a week since Zexion had been released from the underground prison--now it appeared that Axel would be throwing him into it again. And why shouldn't he? Now that Demyx was gone, there was really nowhere else for Zexion to go...

_Now that Demyx was gone. _Demyx. Gone. Zexion couldn't explain why that thought made him feel oddly..._hollow_...inside...

"Hurry it up, bitch," growled Axel, giving the chain an extra-hard yank. Zexion hissed as the silver cuff was dragged over his already-sensitive wrist, burning the skin even further. He stumbled, but managed to avoid falling.

"Wait! Axel!" cried Roxas, his voice high and thin. Axel, rudely, didn't turn around or even acknowledge Roxas, but continued marching forward. "Axel! You have to report Demyx missing to the slayer authority--"

"_You _do it," snarled Axel, stopping abruptly as he reached the door to the basement. Startled by the abruptness of the stop, Zexion bumped into Axel--Axel rudely shoved him aside. "Go call Luxord and Xigbar. Their numbers are in my phonebook. And here's my phone."

He tossed something gleaming at Roxas, who caught it awkwardly, juggling it in his hands a moment before getting a secure hold on it. Roxas still wanted to protest, however. "But Axel--what're you going to do--"

"Isn't that fucking obvious," was Axel's rudely snapped response, and then he yanked open the door and dragged Zexion after him downstairs.

Zexion adjusted almost immediately to the darkness--it was, after all, his natural element. Axel didn't seem to be adjusting so well as he was stumbling and bumping into walls, but maybe that was because he was too angry to keep his balance. He stomped down at a vicious pace, yanking Zexion after him. Zexion bit back the protests that were rising in his throat, realizing that this was not the time--he'd only be tortured worse for protesting.

When they reached the bottom, Axel shoved Zexion into the far-right cell--the same one where the vampire had previously spent long weeks of imprisonment. Zexion fell to the floor with a thump, biting his lip to prevent himself from crying out in pain. His head spun even more from the sudden change in position, and he felt blood beginning to rise in his throat--but he refused to spit it out. He huddled on the floor, waiting for Axel to act, waiting for the inevitable torment...

The snapping sound of a lighter. The clink of glass on the floor. The smell of burning wax. Zexion turned in Axel's direction--but quickly turned away again, throwing his arm over his eyes to shield them. Axel had lit a candle and placed it on the floor, its small but bright flame casting a fickle, flickering light over the cell. Fire wasn't quite sunlight, but most vampires went out of their way to avoid it, because it was one of the few things that could kill them. It was dangerous, and it _hurt_--

"Unpleasant, huh, bitch? Don't like it?" said Axel, a self-satisfied note entering his voice. "Hey. Look at me when I'm speaking to you. _Look at me!"_

The order was sharp, pointed; Zexion had no choice to obey. Turning to face Axel, he lowered his arm with a vague reluctance because he knew Axel wouldn't like it if he was hiding his eyes. He hissed and drew back, his vision blurring as the offending light invaded it; he couldn't even make out Axel's face beyond the horrible, _horrible, _candelight--

"Hey, I need a little bit of light, you know," said Axel, and his voice had become almost maniacally-sadistic, cruel, _delighting _in Zexion's pain. "Now--tell me where the fuck Demyx is."

"What?" Zexion hadn't been expecting _this _line of inquiry. "I do not know."

"Don't you fucking lie to me, monster." Axel's voice was rough--but the blow to the face was even rougher, causing Zexion's head to swim and his ears to ring. He tasted the copper tang of blood in his mouth and this time spat, watching in fascinating horror as a splotch of bright red appeared on the dark concrete...

"I'll ask you again," continued Axel, and his hands were now at Zexion's throat, his fingers digging into the pale skin, choking Zexion, pressing his back into the wall...dimly, Zexion saw that Axel had slid on a quantity of shining silver rings on both hands... "_Where is Demyx?"_

"I don't know." Zexion gave the same reply--what else could he say? Nothing but the truth.

Axel hit him in the face again, and it took all of Zexion's self-control to fight back the scream rising in his throat--it _hurt. _There wasn't just the pain of the blow (which had been fairly forceful), but also the sharp, burning pain from the silver rings. The torment wasn't over yet--because Axel then kicked him, once, twice, in the stomach. Zexion coughed blood with each blow, and when Axel finally released him he sunk to the floor, limp like a rag doll, disoriented from pain.

"What the hell is going to convince you to tell the _truth?" _Axel's voice was feral, almost unrecognizable from rage. "Huh? _Huh? _How hard should I hit you? Huh? You stupid little bitch! Are you so intent on buying time for your fucking comrade that you'll let me _do _this? Huh? _Answer!"_

"I _am _telling the truth and I _have _been," retorted Zexion in a low snarl, before he could stop to gather his thoughts. He was--_angry, _damn it. Angry despite the fear. He'd always known Axel to be irrational, but the slayer had _never _before been _this _irrational. Claiming that somehow _Zexion _was responsible for Demyx's disappearance--and just what the hell had happened anyway? "I don't even know what happened back there!"

"What'd I say about lying?" Axel's foot made contact with Zexion's head. Stars burst in the vampire's vision, and, adding to the agony, he banged his head against the floor. Zexion struggled against his rising nausea, his head lurching, barely able to piece together coherent thoughts...

But he retorted anyway. "I've been telling you nothing but the truth. What reason do I have to lie?"

"Oh, _that's _simple," said Axel, snorting derisively and kicking Zexion again, this time in the side. "All you ever do is lie! Like you did that first night. Like you did in the study. Lies all. Well, I'm not going to listen. I see right _through _you, you little bitch of a monster."

Zexion seized on the opening--the smallest of openings--that Axel had given him, with the desperation of a drowning man. "So you're still hung up over _that._"

"Like fucking _hell _I am!" Zexion didn't know if this was a confirmation or a denial. Anyhow, he didn't have time to think about it before Axel had snatched him by the collar and hit him in the face again. Again, the burning--the stabbing--much to his shame Zexion actually cried out, coughing up blood at the same time.

"Oh? I wouldn't be so certain of that," said Zexion (deciding it was a denial), lowering his voice to a whisper, and meeting Axel's furious eyes. It was easier now that Axel's body was blocking the unwelcome candlelight; while the light was still flickering on the walls, it had lost the offensive, concentrated quality of the candle flame. "You never..._actually_...recovered from that incident, have you? I know you've been mulling _intensely _over what I said, if your six days of solitary confinement are anything to--"

He didn't get to say "go by" because at that instant Axel punched him hard in the face again. Zexion tumbled to the wall, his face burning, but couldn't help the little smirk that twitched at the corners of his lips. And why not? Once again--maybe Axel had the _physical _dominance in their relationship, but the one who truly held all the strings was Zexion--

He couldn't believe he'd ever been afraid of Axel.

"Damn you! That was you and your lies again!" shouted Axel, and he kicked Zexion again. And again. And again. Zexion counted--five times. Funnily, each kick seemed to hurt less than the previous one. His mind must finally be reacting to the pain, trying to dull it...

"I wasn't lying," retorted Zexion. A small part of him wondered if he was suicidal, deliberately provoking Axel like this. But most of him was just delighting--for at least this brief moment--in being the one in control. _For once. _"Everything I said to you was the truth. Can you deny it? You _do _believe that you failed Demyx, that you're failing Roxas--"

Another kick, harder than the first, straight to the stomach. Zexion doubled over and coughed up blood--but nothing could erase the smug glow of triumph that had risen within him. He was winning. Axel had let his emotions take overpower his judgment and now it was almost _too _easy for Zexion to control him. Not that there was ever such a thing as "too" easy...

"Don't try to change the subject, bitch!" Axel was shouting. "That has _nothing _to do with--_nothing _to do with what you did to Demyx!"

What _he _did to Demyx, now? Actually...in the strangest way, that almost stung. But only almost. Zexion found it wasn't hard to flash Axel a brief smirk even as the slayer hauled him up by the collar and slammed him into the wall again.

"How can you be sure?" said Zexion, lowering his voice so that Axel had to lean closer to hear. A bit of a dangerous position for Zexion, but the vampire didn't much care...nothing Axel could do would hurt him. "_I _rather think it does."

"Well, _I _don't give a damn for what you think," snarled Axel, though there was something cursory about his statement, as if he didn't believe it. Anyway, he then contradicted himself by saying, "What's that supposed to mean, anyway?"

"It means," said Zexion, drawing the words out slowly and enunciating as carefully as a news broadcaster, so that Axel didn't miss a single word, "that you're the kind of person who refuses to accept the blame for anything. You don't want to accept that you've failed with Demyx, that you're failing with Roxas--so you redirect your feelings of anger and self-hatred. You direct them towards _me, _because I cannot protest. I cannot resist. I'm your prisoner; I'm weaker than you. You can take out all of your rage on me and so you do. It's the exact same thing with _this _situation--you don't want to accept that it most likely is _your _fault that Demyx is gone. It gives you _so _much more comfort to believe that it must be solely my fault--_augh!"_

Zexion couldn't help it--he let out a cry of pain when Axel punched him in the face, harder than he'd ever hit before. The vampire's head spun, and for a moment his vision blanked out. His stomach was lurching, his head spinning, the salt tang of blood rising in his throat...

The punishment wasn't over yet. Axel then threw Zexion aside, causing the vampire to slam against the opposite wall, and slide back to the ground, shivering in pain, disoriented. Zexion experimentally cracked one eye open but soon regretted it--the brilliant glare of the candlelight invaded his vision, causing his head to spin...

He was quite sure he'd never been beaten so violently before. Not even back in the coven when he'd displeased Saix before...it had never been like _this_...

Axel paced back and forth across the dungeon; even though Zexion couldn't see him he could still hear the sound of Axel's steps, echoing against the concrete and ringing unnaturally loud in his ears. He winced, his head lurching--in his current state, even the smallest of sounds was torture to listen to.

When Axel spoke, his voice was quiet, almost--_calm. _But Zexion sensed the dangerous edge to the slayer's voice...and against his will, he shuddered. "All right, then. Tell me, and no more lies and-slash-or mind games. _Where is Demyx?"_

Axel's voice had dropped to a low, silky whisper with the last question. Again, Zexion shivered. He berated himself internally--he had no reason to be afraid of the slayer, not when he was taken over by rage as he was...but _was _he? Axel _sounded _reasonably calm...

Well, there was no use denying Axel an answer. Zexion said, struggling to keep his voice calm (what the hell was _wrong _with him...?), "As I said before, I do not know."

He cringed, expecting a blow--but to his surprise, none came. Axel had stopped pacing, and it seemed that he was now facing Zexion and...what? He wasn't _doing _anything yet, just standing there...

Then without warning both of Axel's hands were around Zexion's throat, pressing down, choking him--the vampire gasped, more startled by the gesture than harmed, seeing as he didn't need to breathe--but it still came as a shock. His entire body convulsed as he was once again slammed against the wall, his head ringing in violent protest. But it wasn't over yet--Axel removed one of his hands from Zexion throat (to compensate, he pressed harder with the one still there), and reached down, to tug, hard, at the fabric of Zexion's shirt...

Zexion's every nerve froze. So _this _was what Axel was intending...noticing Zexion's reaction, Axel said with a low, dark, _insidious _chuckle, "Scared now, huh? Well, I figure if _other _forms of persuasion aren't going to get you to tell the truth, I ought to pound it in you..._this _way..."

"I had nothing to do with Demyx's disappearance!" gasped Zexion; it was a bit hard to talk when Axel had a vice grip around his throat. Screw caution--he _had _to convince Axel _now. _"How could I--I didn't realize because I was hiding my presence--I didn't want _him _to find me--"

"You know, before when you lied you actually made _sense," _was all Axel said in response to this, his voice dispassionate.

"Axel--" But even as Zexion spoke he knew it was futile. Axel's mind was set...he tried struggling, but it was pointless, and Axel backhanded him with a swift, dispassionate motion. Zexion crumpled against the wall, coughing blood, head spinning. He could do nothing...

Axel was busy now with unbuttoning Zexion's shirt, tearing some of the buttons clean off in his haste. Zexion hissed, trying to draw back, but it was no use--he was just pressing himself further into the wall, leaving himself more vulnerable to Axel's ministrations...he could only stare in numb surprise as the slayer drew open Zexion's shirt in a sharp motion, exposing his chest...the half-healed bruises and scrapes standing out starkly against his pale skin...

"Hmm," said Axel, tracing one of the longer scrapes winding across Zexion's torso with his thumb--Zexion couldn't help but shiver in response. "You have a lot of these, don't you? Well, you're about to get a lot more."

Zexion couldn't _believe _the cavalier tone that Axel was taking--it was in such stark contract with the fierce rage that had previously been burning in the slayer's voice. And it was _nothing _like--

_"It's _horrible! _How could he do this? How could he--how COULD he--it's wrong! He shouldn't ruin you like this, Zexion--!"_

What the hell--? Where had _that _memory come from? No, he couldn't think of Demyx--not now--he had to keep all his wits about him--

Zexion's attention was suddenly snapped back to the present by a sharp stabbing pain in his chest--right where his injury was. Axel had pressed his mouth to the wound and was now tracing it with his tongue, causing sharp bursts of pain to shoot through Zexion's body--it _hurt, _damn it--where Axel's saliva met the half-healed skin, cold and stinging, where his tongue pressed deeper into the laceration as he moved steadily downwards...and then, when he reached the end of the wound, right above Zexion's navel, he bit, hard, on the vampire's pale skin. Zexion held back a whimper of pain.

Axel just laughed at Zexion's pain, a cruel laugh that pressed agains the vampire's ears and stabbed sharply into his chest with every peal. Zexion tried to draw away, causing Axel to laugh harder, and his arm shot out and wrapped around Zexion's waist, pulling him closer. He tried to struggle against Axel's unrelenting grip, but Axel merely tightened his grip, to the point where he was probably leaving bruises...

"Hurts, little vampire?" whispered Axel, his tongue tracing the shell of Zexion's ear. Zexion couldn't help it--he unleashed a tiny whimper of pain, a whimper that turned into a squeak as Axel's hands flew to the waistband of Zexion's pants.

"Stop--" gasped Zexion, but he knew there was no way Axel was stopping, not until he got what he wanted, but Zexion _couldn't _tell Axel because he himself didn't know--

"Like fuck I'm stopping," said Axel, sounding almost maniacally delighted as he pulled down the zipper of Zexion's pants, almost breaking it in his haste. Zexion struggled to draw back, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling his face flush from embarrassment--he didn't want Axel to _see_--

"Why're you protesting so damn much?" said Axel with a low laugh, leaning closer to Zexion so that his face was filling the vampire's entire field of vision. He had snatched Zexion's wrists by now, and had pinned them above Zexion's head, his grip tight and unrelenting. Zexion tried to draw back further but his head bumped against the wall, sending a burst of throbbing pain through his swimming head and a sick lurching sensation in his stomach.

_Shit..._there was no way out of this...

"M-Master, please--" he whispered, trying desperately to summon up what remained of his powers--but his mind was a murky haze of confusion and he couldn't _focus_--

"So it's 'Master' now, instead of 'Axel'?" said Axel, with another cavalier laugh. And then, with a single rough motion, he yanked Zexion's pants down--exposing everything the vampire had to offer. Zexion's blush burned even brighter but he had no idea why, he shouldn't be embarrassed, he was an incubus and he lived off this--

But only when he was in control. Right now, Axel held all the strings...and Zexion did _not _like that.

"Master--" Zexion began again, but had no idea what he was trying to say--he couldn't _think_--his head was throbbing too hard--all of his wounds aflame--

And anyway, he didn't get an opportunity to continue before three of Axel's fingers were shoved into his mouth, choking him, stabbing into the back of his throat. Zexion gasped, startled by the suddenness of the gesture, but recognized what Axel wanted and leaned forward, sucking with a near-desperate fervor, only barely entertaining the notion of biting the slayer--he knew it would just end up hurting _him. _And who cared, all he cared about now was sucking, sucking, _sucking, _making sure to coat every inch of Axel's fingers with saliva so that it wouldn't hurt so much when Axel entered...

"That's good," said Axel with a low, appreciate chuckle, slowly sliding his fingers out. He smiled as he held his hand in front of him, obviously pleased at how slick his fingers were...spreading his fingers and watching how the saliva formed strings between them...Zexion squeezed his eyes shut and turned away--but his attention was jerked back to his present situation when he felt something cold brush against his entrance...

"N..n-no, please," he whispered, gazing up and meeting Axel's eyes, terrified by the sheer, lustful intent burning in the slayer's brilliant green eyes--no, not just lust, something _beyond _it...the intention to _harm. _He wanted to _hurt _Zexion and he was going to _enjoy _it...

"Don't worry," said Axel, an impish smirk flashing across his face. "Since I'm feeling merciful today, I'll give you one last chance to make this stop--"

Zexion knew the question even before Axel asked it. So when Axel asked, no longer smirking, "Where is Demyx?", Zexion had a reply already on hand:

"I don't know."

Axel's face hardened, all the good-natured taunting slipping away in an instant. Zexion cringed, almost expecting Axel to slap him--but instead, Axel shook his head, sighed, and said, "All right, then. I guess that's the way it is. If you still wanna be stubborn, it's not my problem."

Zexion wanted to protest, but his head was swimming too much for him to piece together coherent words, and a sick sensation was growing in his stomach...and then, abruptly, all the breath was knocked out of him when, without any warning, Axel shoved all three of his fingers deep inside.

"Shit--!" Zexion's entire body tensed from the suddenness of the motion. It was so _cold, _and Axel was merciless, driving his fingers deeper in, his nails digging into the walls of Zexion's opening. He writhed against the invading fingers, now scissoring back and forth, stretching him...but there was no escape. Axel simply tightened his grip around Zexion's wrists, pressing harder, leaving bruises...

"Hurts, bitch?" said Axel, laughing again. Zexion turned away (ignoring the wave of vertigo the gesture incited), not wanting to meet Axel's eyes, but he could still hear Axel's low, sadistically-delighted chuckle... "You know, you can make this stop. _Just tell me the truth..."_

I am, I am, I _have _been telling the truth, Zexion wanted to cry out, but the words were stuck in his throat. Axel had slid out of him by now, removing his fingers one by one, but Zexion felt no relief, only a cold dread--Axel was only going to invade him again, harder--

"One last chance," said Axel, his voice falling to a low whisper, leaning closer to Zexion and placing a hand--almost _gently_--on Zexion's cheek. Zexion stared into Axel's eyes, seeing Axel's confidence, his lust, his sadism... "One last chance, little vamp. _Where the fuck is Demyx?"_

A wild part of Zexion flirted with the notion of lying to Axel, but he knew it'd be no use. Axel would find out and then...the punishment he'd get for _that _would... Swallowing, Zexion, once more, gave Axel the truth. "I do not know."

"I see." Axel pulled away, shaking his head in a disappointed way--but it was obvious he'd been anticipating that answer. "Well, then so be it. I should've _figured _your kind would be loath to betray each other--"

Zexion almost had a protest for this, half-formed in his mind, but before he could voice it, Axel had unzipped his pants, tightened the hand not squeezing Zexion's wrists on the vampire's hip, and--

It _hurt. _Of course, Zexion had been expecting the pain--but he could never get used to it. _Never, _no matter how often Axel did it. He almost screamed but managed to bite it down, but still it _hurt _it hurt it was like a hot knife was stabbing deep into him, over and over again, unrelentingly--

"Cry, c'mon," hissed Axel, his breath hot against Zexion's face, thrusting harder, deeper in--it _burned_--

"Nhh..." Zexion couldn't help it; he unleashed a whimper of pain. But no, he couldn't scream, not even when Axel was thrusting so hard now it felt like Zexion was being torn in two, with every thrust...he bit hard on his bottom lip, ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth, ignoring the stinging behind his eyelids...

"_Cry," _said Axel again in a feral snarl, and with that he thrust harder than he ever had before--it took all of Zexion's willpower to keep from shrieking in agony--and as he pulled out he came, spilling his seed inside Zexion. Zexion gasped and writhed as the hot semen gushed over his thighs, splattering on to the floor and the concrete wall behind him. Axel let out yet another low, insidious--and _satisfied_--chuckle, and stroked the side of Zexion's face with a gentleness that caused shivers to shoot up Zexion's spine.

"You didn't cry," said Axel, a slight perturbed frown tugging down the corners of his lips. "Why's that? Didn't hurt enough?"

Zexion said nothing to this--what _was _there to say? He could only hang his head, hoping that this was enough to satisfy Axel and that Axel would show him mercy...but even as the thoughts flitted through his mind he knew they were nonsense. Axel would continue punishing him until he divulged Demyx's location. And because Zexion didn't know...

...this would _never _end.

His fears were confirmed when Axel grabbed him by a fistful of hair, forcing his chin up so they were eye-to-eye. Zexion gasped and tried to pull away, shocked by the--the _intent _burning in Axel's eyes. A serious intent, a dark intent...an intent to _hurt. _Axel didn't want to kill Zexion--he wanted to _destroy _him. To break him, to make it so Zexion could never strike back with his words again, could never again place the blame where it rightfully belonged--

This was no longer about Demyx, Zexion realized with a cold tremor coursing down his spine. It was about--him and Axel. Their mutual grudge that had remained unsettled, ever since Zexion had first crept into Axel's window...and now Axel was going to settle it. Tonight. Right here and now.

And there was nothing Zexion could do to stop him.

It infuriated him to think about it that way, because he'd long clung to the belief that a word alone could make an entire army stand down, if it was carefully chosen and spoken in just the right way. But now, all of his flimsy defenses, his shield of words and manipulation, had fallen apart. Destroyed by nothing more than a single intent glare.

"Why the fuck do you still insist on being stubborn? It's starting to grate on my nerves," said Axel--but he _sounded _perfectly calm. He leaned closer to Zexion, so that their faces were only inches apart...Zexion suddenly reflected on how easy it would be to just lean forward and _bite _Axel--but doubted he would be able to do it. Axel would never give him an opening...

"I already told you," said Zexion, lowering his voice so that he was barely speaking above a whisper. "I don't know where Demyx is."

"Liar. Do you _really _need more persuasion than _that?" _Zexion convulsed in horror when he felt something warm--Axel's fingers--brush against his entrance. The simple gesture incited a burning, stabbing pain that shot through Zexion--it _hurt, _but of course it did; he'd just been _raped_--

That didn't mean anything to Axel, though. In fact, with a sickening, lurching sensation in his stomach--that had nothing to do with the vertigo in his head--he realized what Axel wanted. And with that revelation, for the first time, Zexion began to struggle. He _knew _it was hopeless, that Axel could easily overpower him when it came to physical strength--but no, he didn't want _that_--

But even as Zexion thrashed, trying to throw off Axel's oppressive weight, the slayer grabbed him by the shoulder--the injured one--and hurled him, hard, face-down to the floor. Zexion hissed in pain as his forehead slammed against the floor--he struggled to rise, but felt Axel's hand tighten around his wrists in a vice grip, and felt the slayer's weight descend on top of him...

_Shit. _Now he was in an even less desirable position than before. Pinned, straddled, helpless...vulnerable. Zexion opened his eyes a crack, and immediately wished he hadn't--the brilliant light of the candle invaded his vision, causing his head to swim and a fresh wave of nausea rise within him...he squeezed his eyes shut, but the vertigo didn't disappear. Neither did the pain...suddenly, he could feel anew all of the pain, all of the injuries...even the faded, almost-healed ones burst into flares of agony. He couldn't help the scream that was torn from his throat when Axel gripped Zexion's injured shoulder for leverage--he could have _sworn _the wound had opened, was spilling fresh blood down his back...it felt like knives were being driven into his shoulder...

And a new pain flared within him--a pain down _there. _Without any preparation, Axel had entered him in a single violent motion, and gave Zexion no time to adjust before moving within him, thrusting up and down over and over agin at a punishing rhythm. Zexion was now making no effort to hide his gasps and whimpers and cries of pain--it hurt so fucking _much_--and he couldn't escape, not when Axel was pinning his wrists behind his back and holding him down by the shoulder, and straddling his hips....he could feel every motion of the slayer inside him, and it _burned_...

It was even worse than the first time. All he could do was pray for it to end, was to keep his head down and bite the inside of his cheek in a futile effort to keep from escaping the gasps of pain that were beginning to sound more like sobs...he felt a stinging wetness behind his eyes, but refused to shed the tears. Even now, even while being assaulted with no mercy, even while Axel was practically tearing him apart from the inside, his mind still struggled to maintain his dignity. Or at least the carefully-constructed veneer of dignity he'd always put on, even though he knew that as an incubus he should have no concept of the very notion of dignity...

Axel came with a tremor that Zexion felt, and a wild peal of insane laughter. A part of Zexion wondered if Axel had finally cracked, but no--this was Axel as he _truly _was. A sadist, an uncaring man, who lashed out at others because he couldn't deal with his own problems--

The slayer thrust three more times--Zexion counted--to ride out his orgasm, before finally pulling out with a violent motion. Zexion convulsed, startled at the suddenness of the gesture--but relieved, too. It was over...

He collapsed to the floor, trembling all over, agony blazing down _there. _Axel had, by now, removed his grip on Zexion's shoulder and his wrists--Zexion grimaced when he saw the bruises standing starkly against his pale wrists--and had stood up. He seemed to be surveying Zexion dispassionately, not saying or doing anything, just _standing _there, staring down at Zexion, staring down at his _conquest_...

"I'd ask you the question again," said Axel, his voice quiet but pressing down heavily on Zexion's ears, oppressing him, "but I'm sure I'll just get the same answer. Won't I, bitch?"

For a second, Zexion had no idea what Axel was talking about--he was hurting too much to think. It took his mind a second to churn up an image of a smiling, oblivious blonde vampire slayer, a vampire slayer who'd confessed his...his _love_...to Zexion just the other night...

Unbidden, the burning behind Zexion's eyelids increased, and his throat tightened. No, not because he _liked _Demyx, just...it was just that out of everyone here...everyone he'd met during his nightmarish imprisonment...

Demyx had been the only one who had bothered to slow even a modicum of kindness to Zexion. In fact...

More kindness than _anyone _had shown Zexion before. A kindness that Zexion had only observed in novels and movies, not in the real world. An unabashed, entirely unselfish kindness unlike any Zexion had ever experienced, except _maybe _back then, in the old life before everything went to shit....

Axel's foot slamming against Zexion's head distracted the vampire from his thoughts, and against his will he opened his eyes and looked up, to see Axel looming above him, radiating dark displeasure. The slayer's arms were folded and his green eyes were fixing Zexion with a piercing glare.

"C'mon. Answer my question. You're just going to keep on lying, aren't you?"

"I...I am not..." Zexion coughed to clear his throat, alarmed by how hoarse his voice sounded, and started over. "I am not lying. I have not been lying. I have only been telling you the truth. I don't know where Demyx is. Please..."

He didn't know how he was going to finish that sentence, and it trailed off pathetically into silence. It was no use pleading with Axel for mercy...he lowered his head, squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for the inevitable punishment...

But none came. All Axel did in response was laugh, a dry, harsh, sarcastic laugh devoid of any amusement. The next instant, to Zexion's surprise, the slayer had crouched down beside Zexion--to tug Zexion's pants back up, drag his shirt over his shoulders. Zexion blinked in surprise, trying to see Axel's face through the offensive light. From what he could tell, Axel was smirking, a cold and humorless smirk that send shivers down Zexion's spine.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me anything now...believe me, I'll _make _you tell me. But for the meantime...I guess I'd better go to the slayer authority and try to locate Demyx from _there. You _can spend that time deciding whether or not you want to tell the truth. Hopefully, by the time I get back to you...you'll have made the right decision."

"M...Master..." Zexion managed to choke out, too startled by Axel's words to even think.

"Don't call me that." Axel's answer was swift, immediate--and burning with a deep and heavy disapproval. Zexion jerked in surprise, almost pulling away when Axel grabbed him by the arm and hauled him up, only to throw him against the wall.

"Wh...what..." said Zexion when he'd regained his wits. "Why?" As far as he knew, for the longest time Axel had been insisting on his supposed "mastery" of Zexion, even punishing Zexion if the vampire _didn't _call him "Master"...

"Because it's a lie," said Axel, his voice cold as he grabbed Zexion's wrist and locked it into the cuff of one of the silver chains attached to the wall. Zexion hissed when he felt the silver burn against his bare skin, but otherwise did not protest. "It's a _lie, _when you call me 'master'. Because you know as well as I do that I _haven't _mastered you. I think that's become _especially _apparent tonight...if your constant lying is anything to go by."

Zexion wanted to protest, but none came. He could only slump against the wall, watching Axel nervously through half-closed eyes (half-closed to keep as much of the candlelight as possible out of his vision), as the slayer continued chaining him--his other wrist, then, and now his ankles. He was being locked into this prison again...but with Demyx gone, did he have anywhere _else _to go?

"But don't you worry, boy...I plan on mastering you for _real _in due time," continued Axel, lowering his voice into a low, insidious whisper--and he reached and, almost gently, pressed a finger to Zexion's cheek. Zexion recoiled, startled by the uncharacteristic gentleness of the gesture. Axel just laughed in response.

"Soon I'll get you to tell me. Soon you'll tell me everything I want to know. Soon you'll learn to stop lying to me...to _your master."_

He stroked Zexion's cheek one last time, sending shivers down Zexion's spine, before standing up and turning around, picking up the candle as he went. Just before he exited the cell, however, Axel paused at the entrance, casting Zexion a brief, unreadable glance.

"Soon, my pretty pet. Soon."

With that, Axel swept out of the cell, disappearing into the darkness with only a flickering haze from the candle illuminating him. The sound of his steps up the stairs, the slamming of the door, and then--then he was gone. Zexion was alone.

_Alone. _Alone, with no one to turn to. No one to depend on. Not the members of his coven--not Vexen, not Lexaeus--and not even...not even...

Demyx. Demyx, the blonde, the smiling, the happy, the _idiot_...

The kind. The caring. The young man whose voice trembled in rage when he saw the injuries Axel had inflicted on Zexion's body, the young man who had hugged Zexion, compared him to a broken butterfly, had said he _loved him..._

Gone. Taken. Taken by a "fellow" vampire, to who the hell knew where. Lost...

Lost because of Zexion. Axel had been entirely right--it _had _been Zexion's fault. If he hadn't been so absorbed in trying to obscure his presence from Xaldin, he would have...he would have known. And he would have tried to stop it. No matter if it meant exposing himself to Xaldin--his own safety meant little when compared to Demyx's. This was a startling thought and one that Zexion initially rebelled against--where had this sudden nobility _come _from?--but he came to accept it. It was just..._right. _Not logically, perhaps, but it _felt _right...

Demyx was willing to stand up for Zexion. Demyx was willing to be kind to him, to intervene with Axel on Zexion's behalf...the least _Zexion _could have done was return the favor, and protect Demyx.

But he hadn't, and now...now he was alone with no one to help him. No one who would be sympathetic to his plight. No one.

"I love you, Zexion," Demyx had said.

All Zexion could say in response, his voice broken, choked by tears, quiet in the infinite darkness of the cell, was:

"I'm sorry, Demyx. I...I'm so sorry."

* * *

Awww...downer ending. Poor Zexion. I just love torturing him so much...*sigh* Plus, if you squint, a Tenth Doctor reference. *shot*

Anyway, chapter ten is called "Freedom"--what does _that _sound like, huh? It's by far _the _longest chapter so far, and if you already have trouble keeping up with my current ginormous chapters (sorry, I can't help it!), it might be a little too much for you to handle...anyway, preview:

_A sound Roxas had hoped he would never hear. A sound from his nightmares, a terrible sound, low yet high-pitched from excitement at the same time, dark and insidious and delighted, utterly delighted, a mad, raging sort of delight that could tear the world apart if given the chance--Zexion laughing. Roxas had never before heard the vampire laugh and now he knew why, and he knew now that he never wanted to hear it before. It was a terrible sound that seemed to enhance the agony, the fire, quivering in his veins, a sound that pressed down and burned in his ears, so alive it was with sheer triumph..._

O ho...anyway, that should be enough to tide you over for now. Expect another relatively slow update, because of upcoming finals and such-like. And I haven't started on the eleventh chapter yet. But hey, at least I'll have completed a whole third of the story--that's right, the first part, "The Hunters", will be ending very, very soon!

Meanwhile, be sure to review!


	10. Freedom

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 1: The Hunters

_10. Freedom_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, CHARACTER DEATH, OVERALL WEIRDNESS.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: A MASSIVE chapter. Seriously, this chapter is _humongous, _clocking at near 10,000 words...I believe the longest chapter I've ever written. That being said, I'll keep the notes short, and let you just read on. Note that this does mark the end of the first part of the story. Yay, we're one third the way through!

* * *

Roxas just didn't know what to do.

He was sure he'd never felt so confused before in his life. Back when he'd been a street rat, running ragged through the slums with Hayner, Pence, and Olette, he simply had never had the luxury of being able to feel confused--any, _any _sign of uncertainty there meant death. And later, with Axel...true, Roxas was a bit confused by Axel's behavior at times, and confused about the exact nature of Axel and Demyx's relationship (it felt _wrong _just thinking about it that way, but Roxas wasn't sure if it was because they were both men or if it was...something else). But usually, he could be certain that Axel was a (relatively) good guy who just wanted to do what was best for Roxas, and was confident and almost always in control of himself.

But now...now that Demyx was gone...

Axel just wasn't acting like _himself. _He spent most of his days holed up in his top-floor study, fielding calls left and right to slayer HQ, to Xigbar, to Luxord, and even--much to Roxas's surprise--swallowing his dislike of Marluxia and enlisting the pink-haired slayer's help. Roxas supposed, on some level, that this behavior would be normal--after all, what _else _was a person who'd seen his friend (...?) abducted supposed to do? It was natural...

What bothered Roxas more was what Axel did in the _dungeons. _Even though Axel tried to go down to the dungeons when Roxas was supposed to be sleeping, Roxas heard, anyway. He heard the thumps, the shouts, the cries of pain--heard Axel grow increasingly enraged as the night wore on, heard him scream curses and oaths that made the hairs on the back of Roxas's neck stand up...

He'd never before witnessed such anger from Axel. It terrified him, made him feel sick all the way down to the stomach, made him--_uncertain. _A part of him wanted to bring it up to Axel, but yet on an unconscious level he knew Axel would just blow him off or...or even _yell _at him. Axel had never before shouted at Roxas (except that night, the night that Demyx went missing...), but Roxas could just picture it. "_Don't tell me how to discipline my pet! Just whose side are you _on, _anyway?" _

It disquieted him, deep down. It disquieted him how _easy _it was to picture Axel scowling and snarling those words to Roxas in a rougher tone than any he'd ever before taken with the boy. And it always disquieted him, because...

Because Roxas didn't like to think that he was sympathizing with a vampire. A _vampire. _An evil, undead, bloodsucking creature of the night, whose only thought was to hunt down and capture humans for prey. He was supposed to _kill _vampires, not feel _sorry _for them!

That didn't change the fact that Roxas _did _feel a stab--no, _more _than a stab--of sympathy towards Zexion. Even if he was a vampire, he didn't deserve..._this. _He didn't deserve to be beaten--and worse--every night, all for a sin he had not committed. It frustrated Roxas, at times, how...how _blind _Axel could be. Couldn't Axel see that Zexion _was _telling the truth? That he had as much idea of where Demyx was as Axel did?

_"He's a manipulator!" _raged Axel's fury-torn voice in Roxas's mind. _"He's just screwing with your mind! He can make you think whatever he wants, but he's _lying!"

Well...maybe. Maybe, but...

But deep inside Roxas, deeper than the shallow touch of intellect, deep in the core of his being and the heart of his judgment--was the feeling that there was more to it than that. The feeling that Zexion was not lying about Demyx, that he was not trying to manipulate Axel. It might have been intuition, or something else, but one way or the other Roxas _knew _that the vampire had nothing to do with Demyx's disappearance.

How, though...was he going to get _Axel _to see that?

* * *

Four days. Roxas had counted every single agonizing minute of those long and dark days...had listened to and memorized every sound, every cry of rage, every snarled curse, every whimpered plea for mercy, during the nights....

And finally he decided that he couldn't take it anymore. Not with a clean conscience, anyway. So on the fourth day, the fourth evening, Roxas left the safe confines of his room and headed to a part of the house he'd only visited once before--and he'd left that time telling himself he wouldn't ever come back. Well, he'd have to break his word to himself, because he _had _to see...

Axel had given Roxas a copy of every necessary key in the house, so Roxas was able to unlock the door to the basement, and push it open as gently as he could. He couldn't stop it from creaking out loud with a mournful sound, though--and the instant the sound broke through the silence, Roxas leapt back, startled, his heart hammering a staccato. Had Zexion heard...?

But Roxas didn't know why he was trying to be furtive in the first place. If Zexion was going to know that Roxas was coming, it didn't matter if Roxas announced his presence _now _or _later, _did it? So, sucking in a deep breath, Roxas crossed the threshold, shut the door behind him, and started down the stairs.

It was dark in the basement, and at first Roxas stumbled a bit, almost tripping over a stair. But he managed to throw his arm out to catch himself on the wall, and made his way to the bottom without further incident. By then, his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out the shape of four cells in the gloom--the far right one occupied by a thin figure hunched with his head lowered and his arms around his knees.

"Er..." Roxas emitted a noise between a cough and a mangled attempt at a greeting. Now he was nervous--who knew how the vampire would react? This was a bad idea, he shouldn't have come in the first place, but...

"Hello." Zexion's voice was quiet, cold, toneless--Roxas shivered when the sound rose from the darkness and carressed his ears. He'd heard Zexion speak before enough times to count on one hand, and so he wasn't quite used to the vampire's voice yet. It was nothing like a human voice. So quiet, yet so penetrating...and so _dark, _too.

A tiny voice in the back of Roxas's head told him it wasn't too late to run if he wanted to. But the rest of him cried out against the cowardly whisper--what, after all, did he have to be afraid of? Zexion couldn't attack him. He was bound by silver chains, helpless...and besides, hadn't Roxas come just because he felt _sorry _for Zexion?

So, swallowing the last of his hesitation, Roxas took a step forward...and another...and another, until he was directly in front of Zexion's cell. The vampire didn't look up at Roxas, keeping his eyes trained on the floor and looking entirely disinterested in the boy.

"Er, hi..." said Roxas nervously. Now that he was here...he had no idea what he should say. He settled for just standing there and staring at Zexion, since he had nothing else to do. Roxas couldn't help the twinge of pity tugging at his heart when he saw Zexion--the vampire was in no way in the best of conditions. His clothes were torn, soiled with blood in varying stages of drying. Cuts and bruises stood out starkly against his pale skin, where the tears in his clothing exposed it. And his neck...Roxas almost didn't want to look, but his eyes moved up, anyway, taking in the myriad blue and red marks bruising Zexion's ice-white neck....

Quickly, Roxas tore his gaze away. He didn't want to look...why? Because he felt sorry for Zexion? Or was it something else, something deeper and more visceral...the thought that _Axel _had left behind those marks, that Axel had been...had been _intimate _with Zexion...?

Roxas banished these thoughts the instant they flitted into his mind. They were pointless, irrelevant, distracting...

"Why did you come here?" Zexion's voice, whispering through the darkness, snapped Roxas out of his distracting thoughts. He jumped, startled, and stared wide-eyed at Zexion before regaining his composure.

"Um...I...well..." said Roxas, stammering through several attempts to explain. "Er...I just wanted to...uh...see how you were doing, that's all. Yeah."

The words felt stupid when they came out; stupid, poorly-worded..._trite. _Like he was paying a visit to a friend he hadn't seen for a few days. _Just wanted to see how you were doing! _But Zexion _wasn't _his friend, and this wasn't a friendly visit. It was just...

Roxas suddenly realized he didn't know _what _it quite was. He'd just come on a whim, and now that had come back to bite him. Hard. Because he really had no reason at all to be here...

"Ah." Worse was Zexion's reaction--he didn't laugh, or scoff, or otherwise indicate any scorn. He simply tilted his head to the side, casting Roxas a look that might have been one of mere academic interest, nothing more. Zexion's complete lack of a reaction disconcerted Roxas even more--he just didn't know how to _read _the vampire...not to mention that Zexion's current position inadvertantly exposed more of his neck, more of the marks and bruises...

Though if Roxas had stopped to think about it, he would have realized that there was nothing "inadvertant" about the gesture at all.

But the last thing Roxas was doing now was _thinking. _He could only stand there, feeling more and more stupid with every second that passed, as Zexion continued to emotionlessly survey him. His legs were twitching, perhaps urging him to bolt and run while he still could before he made a total schmuck of himself...but inertia kept him firmly glued to the floor.

After a silence that seemed to extend into an eternity, Zexion finally spoke again. "So? Did you simply come here to stare at me?"

"What! Um--no, _no," _said Roxas, feeling his face burn bright red at--at _that _thought. Especially at the way Zexion had _phrased _it...as if, oh...that was just too terrible to think about. Too terrible. Even _if _Zexion was an incubus who lived by seducing men...

Was it just Roxas's imagination, or did the corner of Zexion's mouth twitch up in a hint of a smirk? When the vampire spoke, an amused note had entered his voice. "Are _all _blondes this easily flustered...?"

"Huh?" At first, Roxas had no idea what Zexion was talking about...but then remembered with a flash. _Demyx. _"Oh, uh...yeah...um, I actually, I kinda, I wanted to talk to you about Demyx."

He hadn't, of course; he'd just made it up. With a sharp flare of panic, Roxas suddenly wondered if Zexion could read minds, and knew the lie flashing loudly across Roxas's mind like a bright marquee--but _that _was pure nonsense. Maybe some vampires could read minds, but not lower-ranked ones like Zexion...

Zexion didn't seem to see Roxas's lie, or, more probably, he just let it slide. In a calm voice--incongruously calm--he said, "Yes? What about Demyx?"

"Er..." Roxas began to regret how his mouth had moved without any central planning. What about Demyx? _He _didn't know! "Well...um...slayer HQ's dispatched two separate search patrols after him...um...trying to follow any leads on Xaldin's location. They think wherever Xaldin is, Demyx should be too..."

"It won't be as easy as that, if _Xaldin _is involved..." said Zexion in a low murmur, seemingly to himself. But then, his voice acquiring an edge of sharpness, he turned to face Roxas and snapped, "So you don't think I had anything to do with it?"

"Huh? With what?" Roxas's mind seemed to be extra-slow today; he couldn't catch on to what Zexion was saying. Not at first. But then-- "Oh! Of course not. I don't think you did."

"Really? Pray tell me why, because your _mentor _seems to be entirely convinced that I helped Xaldin orchestrate his little...abduction." For the first time, Zexion's veneer of cavalier calm slipped--a spasm of pain had entered his voice at the final word, and he lowered his head as if to hide any emotional reaction from Roxas. Again, Roxas felt that twinge of pity in his heart...and again found himself thinking of Demyx and Zexion.

And once _more _he was thinking about Axel even when he had no reason to! What was wrong with him? Just because Demyx and Zexion were...

_No! No! What the hell's gotten into me? I've got to get my mind out of the gutter!_

Shaking his head to clear it, Roxas remembered Zexion's query, and answered. "No. I mean...um...I just don't...I don't think you had anything to do with it. I mean...if you did, I think you'd have already told Axel where Demyx was..."

Roxas trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Now feeling somewhat embarrassed (but he didn't know why), he lowered his head and became immersed in his shoes. But he truly _did _believe everyting he said. He'd seen enough of Zexion, heard enough of--of the nights--to _know. _To know that Zexion wasn't the kind of person who could withstand such stress--such _torture. _To know that Zexion was smart enough to see the futility in constantly lying to Axel...

That left only one conclusion--that Zexion was telling the truth.

"So you trust me."

Roxas took a step back, startled by Zexion's sudden, flatly-intoned words. Unwillingly, his gaze snapped up from the ground--to Zexion. Now, for the first time, the vampire seemed truly interested in Roxas, no longer regarding the boy as just an intriguing academic curiosity and nothing more. He was sitting up straight, his posture tense, looking for all the world a cat prepared to spring upon a mouse. All of the vague disinterest he'd been faking had disappeared, to be replaced by a sharp and wary intentness, and he never once removed his dark blue eyes from Roxas's face. Roxas took another uneasy step back, unnerved by the quality of Zexion's stare--as if the vampire was trying to burn holes into Roxas's body with his eyes, to strip the boy down to the barest essence of his very _being..._

At that thought, Roxas let out an uncomfortable, nervous little cough. "Um...I don't quite...know."

"Hmm?" Zexion tilted his head to examine Roxas more closely. Again, Roxas felt like a mouse under the predatory stare of a cat... "But you _do _trust me, on some level. Enough to believe me when I say I had nothing to do with--with Demyx's, ah, disappearance."

Zexion's control had slipped, ever-so-slightly, on the last words, the faintest--_faintest_--of tremors entering his voice. Roxas couldn't say why _that _made him feel...sad in a way. Not just because he was feeling sorry for Zexion, but...at the sudden, stark thought of what Axel would feel if Roxas ever disappeared--

_Out of the gutter, dammit! Stop thinking about--stuff like that! Not _now, _of all times..._

"Well...well, yeah. I mean, it just seems like, like..." Roxas trailed off, unable to complete his thought. He wasn't even sure what he'd been trying to say...but then, unbidden, words rose out of him, out of a deeper part of his soul that needed no filters, no censors, just the _truth. _"You've been...hurt. Hurt a lot...really bad. And by Axel, too. I mean--he's really not a bad person. He's not a bad guy. He _isn't. _I've never seen him--never seen him like that. I know it's not right. I know it isn't. And I'm sorry if you think--if you think _I_--I support what he's doing. I _don't. _I'm sorry I didn't do anything about it, I promise I will, I'll go talk to him, make him stop--he's reasonable, I _know_..."

He trailed off after his long, senseless torrent, feeling his face burn from shame. What the hell had he just _said? _It had all come out of him and he hadn't had time to process what he was saying...

Zexion, too, seemed equally startled by Roxas's ramble, his eyes widening and his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline. He seemed at a lost for words for a moment, his throat convulsing in a valiant effort to get words out, but when he finally spoke, his voice was calm--if one disregarded the shaking near-hysteria just beneath the surface.

"I believe I can condense that long, rambling mash of nonsensical sentences into three words--_don't blame Axel. _Am I correct? You're upset at what's happened to me, but you refuse to accept that Axel did it."

"No!" cried Roxas without thinking--though it wasn't like he'd been _thinking _before saying _anything _this evening. "That isn't true. He _did _do it!"

"Then what was all that about Axel 'not really being a bad person'? What was all that about him being 'reasonable'?" An unmistakable edge of anger had entered Zexion's voice, and now he was almost _glaring _at Roxas, his hands curled into tight fists, rage burning in his visible eye. "You're trying to deny that he _could _do it. Not to me, but to yourself. You won't accept it, because you admire Axel so _fucking _much. So you tell yourself that it wasn't truly _him, _that he was just taken over by a monster, that's all. You're trying to deny his very _nature!"_

Zexion tried to rise in anger at the last words, but the silver chains jerked him back, impeding his progress. Zexion let out a snarl of frustration but did not try to rise again, merely crouching low to the ground and still fixing Roxas with a ferocious, hate-filled glare. But not hate directed at _Roxas_--hate directed at someone else, someone upstairs in the study, frantically fielding calls back and forth--

"No...that's not...right..." stammered Roxas. He knew that Zexion's anger _was _justified, and that Axel probably wasn't as pleasant a person as Roxas thought, but...he couldn't let go of Axel. Not _his _Axel. Not the Axel he knew, the Axel who had saved him, who had spoken to him kindly and praised his skills...he didn't care if _that _Axel wasn't the _real _Axel. It was the Axel whom Roxas knew, and it was _that _Axel he would cling on to. Because...

Because he _cared. _He cared about Axel, as more than a teacher for a student, as a friend, or even--

Thankfully, before this dangerous train of thought could reach its station, Zexion interrupted, his voice harsh and cold. "How _isn't _it right, Roxas! Look--_look! _Look what he did to me, and ask yourself if a _nice, reasonable _person could do this!"

With that, Zexion lifted his arms, shaking his sleeves back to reveal--_everything. _Bruises, some splotchy and fading, others darker, standing in sharp relief against the ghost-pale skin. Cuts and scrapes in varying stages of healing. Dried blood clinging to the scrapes...ugly red burn marks...injuries everywhere Roxas swept his eyes.

And then he couldn't look anymore. He tore his gaze away, his head reeling, unwilling to accept, unwilling to believe--he'd _known _what Axel had done, but he hadn't known it was...like _this. _This bad. He didn't want to believe that Axel was capable of _this, _of harming a person to such extents...

And he wasn't willing to believe that Axel would do all this--over _Demyx._

Again, Zexion's sharp voice snapped Roxas out of his dangerous thoughts. "Do you see now? Do you see? Do you see what he is capable of? Do you see how much of a _monster _your beloved mentor is?"

_Beloved. _The word pierced Roxas sharply, like an icy arrow to his heart. Without thinking, he started shaking his head, over and over, trying to deny--what? "No, no, no...he isn't...I mean...he was so kind..."

"A pure wolf in sheep's clothing," said Zexion sharply. "That's all he is. He did this to me. Do you want to see more? Do you want to look further? Because that was only the tip of the iceberg. I've got many more, in _other _places..." At those words, Zexion's hand moved down to the waistband of his pants, moving down to the zipper...

"Um, no, I don't need to see!" cried Roxas, stricken. "Look--I--ah--I'm sorry!"

"An apology from _you _means nothing!" snarled Zexion. "You didn't do it, so why the hell are you apologizing?"

"Because--because--" gasped Roxas; it was suddenly hard to breathe. Hard to think, hard to speak. "Because...I didn't stop him. I let it happen. Please, _please _don't think--I mean--please don't think that just because _he _did it, it means _I'd _do it too. It's wrong. I know it is. And I'm sorry about it. Sorry that he hurt you like this. Please..."

He didn't know what he was saying anymore. But since when was _that _a surprise? Roxas had lost all control of his conversation, long ago, and could now only let his emotions, tangled and confused as they were, do the speaking for him.

Zexion's response didn't help things--he simply buried his head in his hands and unleashed a harsh, flat, mirthless laugh. "Oh, _you_...I wonder why Axel always ends up taking in students of higher moral caliber than _him?"_

"Please! I'm serious! I'm sorry--I'm sorry!" cried Roxas, his voice cracking. He took a step closer, and then another, so that he was directly in front of the bars of Zexion's cell. Zexion stared up at Roxas, his eyes wide, almost--_fearful. _"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. For everything Axel did, for not stopping him..."

"What are you--" said Zexion, his voice barely above a whisper, still staring wide-eyed at Roxas. "What--"

Roxas couldn't answer Zexion's query because he himself no longer knew what he was doing. He'd already reached into his pocket, pulled out the key ring Axel had entrusted him with long ago, found the long black key that fit into the cell's padlock, slid open the cell door (ignoring the loud screeching it made against the floor), and stepped inside. Now, he was facing Zexion, only two steps between them, his heart thudding a violent staccato in his chest and he didn't know why, but he _had _to make things right...

"Get out." Zexion's voice was cold, flat--but trembling with barely-suppressed emotion. His expression was wild, near-livid...but _confused _as well. He didn't understand...and neither did Roxas.

"I'm sorry," said Roxas again. He couldn't say anything else.

"Good. Well, you've apologized for being a collaborator," said Zexion in a miserable attempt to return his voice to its old careless disinterest. "Now why don't you drag _him _down here and make _him _apologize too?"

"I'm seriously sorry," said Roxas again, sinking down to a crouch in front of Zexion. A vague part of him--the tiny portion of his higher brain that was still _working_--was attempting to ring all sorts of alarm bells, telling him that he was only _two feet _away from a dangerous, bloodsucking monster...but said "dangerous, bloodsucking monster" was making no move to attack Roxas. He was only staring at Roxas, wide-eyed and stunned, his entire body trembling. A body that was bruised, lacerated, injured in every way, its pale beauty taken, drawn and quarted, tortured by the man Roxas admired more than anyone else in the world...

And Zexion was so..._young-looking, _too. He couldn't be more than a year or two older than Roxas...physically, at least. He was probably much older than he appeared, being an immortal vampire. But that didn't change the fact that he _looked _like a boy not that much older than Roxas. A thin, pale, and delicate boy as well, unused to fighting and physical labor. Roxas could just imagine Zexion as a character from the movies, as the rich, aristocratic son of a noble: sickly but refined, never doing anything more physical than playing the violin and piano or rifling through the pages of a good book. He could _see _Zexion, almost, in elegant, flowing clothes, sprawled languidly across a velvet-upholstered couch, absorbed in a sentimental romance novel and sighing in refined enjoyment. A young boy, a naive boy, with almost no knowledge about the _real _world...

Zexion belonged in _that _world. He didn't belong _here, _chained in this dark and squalid prison cell, his clothes torn and filthy and his body covered in bruises, cuts, and injuries, at the mercy of a temperamental vampire slayer...

Roxas had no idea where these observations were coming from, yet he felt they were all _true. _He knew, logically, that Zexion as a pureblood vampire had been born a vampire and lived as a vampire his entire life, but couldn't help but shake the feeling that Zexion had had a _previous _life too, in which he was not a vampire but an elegant--and ignorant--aristocrat. He didn't know why, but he could suddenly just--_see_--it. See it in the way Zexion surveyed Roxas, the vestiges of a past innocence hidden in his furious glower...see it in the way Zexion moved, his every gesture hiding a faint elegance that came from another world, from another time when life had been less hurried and more value had been placed in refinement.

Then, abruptly, Roxas was snapped out of his idle musings by a harsh voice saying, "What do you want?"

"Huh?" Roxas jumped back, startled by the incongruousness of Zexion's sharp tone, not after Roxas had been spending the past five minutes or so constructing for himself an image of the vampire as a leisured aristocrat. But what was the point of such random thoughts, they wouldn't help in this situation...

"I asked you what you wanted. You have no reason to hang around, seeing as you've already apologized. So what are you still doing?" Zexion cast Roxas a sidelong glare, looking irritated.

"I...don't know," said Roxas. He didn't say anything else. Why should he? How could he? He couldn't explain _anything _he was doing anymore...

But he didn't move. He remained where he was, crouching in front of Zexion, his gaze on the pale vampire before him because he didn't know what else to look at. Zexion kept stealing furtive glaces at Roxas at first, as if trying to figure out what Roxas was doing or what he wanted, but eventually seemed to just accept Roxas's presence, and turned away from the boy, a curtain of slate-colored hair hiding his face from Roxas's scrutiny. For the longest time, the two remained like this--student slayer and vampire, together in the dark cell, silent and each aware of, but doing nothing about, each other's presence.

And then, at length, Zexion broke the silence, turning to cast Roxas a brief, inscrutable, glance. "You...Roxas...?"

"Huh? Yeah?" said Roxas, startled not just at the suddenness of Zexion speaking after the long silence, but also by Zexion addressing him by name. The vampire had never before called him by his name...

"You...well. You're truly more--much more--than I give you credit for." Zexion paused, as if trying to collect his thoughts, turning to the side again so that Roxas couldn't see his face. "You are...you are a very moral person. A strong person, with strong convictions. I can see you going..._very _far in life." A bitter laugh, and then, "It's a shame you had to get tangled up with _Axel_..."

He then turned to face Roxas--and Roxas almost fell over in surprise. The vampire was, for the very first time Roxas had seen him--_smiling. _A smile that extended to his eyes, that seemed to light up his entire face and suddenly made him seem years younger, made him seem so much more like the elegant and ignorant boy Roxas had been picturing in his mind--a happier boy, a more innocent boy--

"I can almost believe that I _like _you, Roxas. We've got quite a bit in common, me and you. More than you might be willing to admit." Zexion's smile widened imperceptibly, but even that slight motion was dazzling in the way it transformed his face, made him glow with an even stronger aura of innocence-- "You're an honest person, Roxas, so I know I can trust you. What do you say about bringing up my cause with Axel? I'm sure he'd be willing to listen to _you_...so? Do we have an alliance?"

Roxas stared in numb surprise as the vampire extended in his arm in a slow, yet fluid and graceful, motion--holding his hand only inches in front of Roxas. The boy immediately knew what Zexion wanted, and the sane part of his mind protested against it--_shaking hands with a vampire!_--but the rest of him ignored those forceless protests. He found it all too easy to extend his own hand and take Zexion's in a firm grip.

"Yeah," he said, as they shook, Roxas vaguely aware of how cold Zexion's hand was underneath his own. "It's a deal."

"Thank you, Roxas," said Zexion, his voice low, filled with emotion. His head was lowered, so that Roxas couldn't see his face...but from the trembling of his thin shoulders, it was plain that he was...overwhelmed. Roxas was surprised; he'd never seen Zexion so plaintively displaying his emotions before. "You have no idea what this means to me..."

Roxas was only just conscious of how Zexion's voice fell into a quiet, yet excited--and _insidious_--murmur at the end, before Zexion's grip on his hand tightened like a vice and drew Roxas, in a single startling motion, straight toward him.

"Whoa! Hey!" cried Roxas, struggling to disentangle himself from Zexion--his face was buried in Zexion's chest and this was _uncomfortable_--it was so cold-- "Let go--"

And then, with a flash of terror, he realized that Zexion's mouth was only centimeters from his neck.

"As I said," whispered Zexion, his entire body transformed, poised like a wildcat again as he bent above the vein leaping beneath Roxas's skin, his voice aquiver with excitement, "_you have no idea what this means to me."_

Roxas's heart hammered so hard against his ribcage he was sure that Axel, even in his top-floor study high above the basement, could hear it. But he knew Axel couldn't, so he tried to fill his lungs, tried to capture a large enough breath to encompass a scream that would make Axel come, that would make him save Roxas from Roxas's own folly--

Too late, too late. Before Roxas could begin screaming, Zexion's fangs found their mark.

Roxas's first sensation was of draining. The draining of blood from his face, the draining of strength from his body. His body, previously so rigid from tension, relaxed, loosening like a rag doll. And then--then the _pain _hit. The sharp piercing pain from where the fangs had pierced the skin, breaking open the vein...a pain that soon spread from his quivering vein to the rest of his body, through all of his arteries and veins and capillaries--he could almost _picture _the pain being carried through his bloodstream, circling around and around and increasing with each pump of his heart--he wanted to scream but couldn't get the air for it but it _hurt _so much it _hurt _it hurt he had never hurt as badly as he was now the pain the mortal pain the agony threatening to rip him in two--

He was only vaguely aware of falling away from Zexion, of tumbling hard to the rough concrete floor. There he trembled, twisted, convulsed, as the agony took control of his limbs, chasing all rational thought from his mind--his only thought was to stay _alive_--he was quivering ,his blood was quivering, pulsing and pumping and with each pump changing him a little inside, sending more of that agony flooding through his veins and--

A sound Roxas had hoped he would never hear. A sound from his nightmares, a terrible sound, low yet high-pitched from excitement at the same time, dark and insidious and _delighted, _utterly delighted, a mad, raging delight that could tear the world apart if given the chance--Zexion _laughing. _Roxas had never before heard the vampire laugh and now he knew why, and he knew now that he never wanted to hear it again. It was a terrible sound that seemed to enhance the agony, the fire, quivering in his veins, a sound that pressed down and burned in his ears, so alive it was with sheer triumph...

"You idiot! You complete, gullible, mortal _fool!" _cried Zexion exuberantly between peals of laughter. "Oh, you fool! I can't believe you _fell _for that! Why would I _ever _want to enter an alliance with one of _you_...? You pitiful fools, you cowering, scrounging, scampering mindless little creatures...you hunks of _meat_...and yet you honestly _believed _me! You believed every word I said! _Fool!"_

"Ah--ungh--ohhh--" For the first time, Roxas managed to force words out of his burning throat--mostly out of a strong desire to force Zexion to stop _laughing. _As long as he didn't have to listen to that sound... "Wh...what...what did you..._do_...to me...?"

A low chuckle answered at first, and then, "That is simple. I bit you."

"I--_know_--that--" growled Roxas, shuddering against the floor. He suddenly realized both his hands were clamped to his neck, where Zexion had bitten... The pain was dying but he wasn't sure why that was, but who cared, it was dying--but did that mean--no, it _had_ to come back, if the pain was gone it meant _he _would be gone too, he would be just a mindless servant--

"Don't worry," said Zexion. If the words were meant to reassure, they failed miserably--Zexion's voice was too breathless with excitement for him to properly assume a comforting tone. "I stopped halfway. You will not become a _made _vampire, at least not fully. As useful as mindless minions are...for now I need a servant with a little more _cunning. _You will be weaker than a full vampire, that is true, but you will at least keep your consciousness. And that will prove..._very_...useful to my cause."

"Damn--!" howled Roxas. How the hell--how had it _come _to this? He'd come to comfort Zexion--but now it became increasingly clear that Zexion had needed no comforting at all. That it had all been an act, a sham, to force Roxas to his mercy...and it had _worked, _as well. That was the most rankling part of it all. "Damn..."

"And there's another perk, as well," continued Zexion, his voice still savagely delighted. "As a made vampire--as _my servant_--you are required to obey every order I give. Allow me to demonstrate. Stand."

Roxas struggled, but it was futile--it was as if some puppet-master from high above was manipulating him, tugging on marrionette strings to make him rise to his feet even as he thrashed and struggled against the order. He rose, jerkily, unwillingly, but he rose, nonetheless.

"Excellent." Zexion flashed Roxas a smile filled with approval--a smile that revealed his fangs too clearly. _Damn...._how could Roxas had let down his guard like that? Zexion was a vampire, no matter how young and innocent he might have appeared...

"Now, my servant, free me." Zexion extended his arm, the silver chain clanking and jangling conspicuously, drawing Roxas's attention to the cuff enclosed around Zexion's wrist. "You have the key, don't you? Very good. That's a good servant. Take it out...oh, and be careful, the silver will harm you now as well--"

Roxas bit the inside of his cheek, trying to fight down a rising sense of nausea, of distate...of _self-hatred. _How could he have allowed this to happen? He should have been more vigilant...but he couldn't do anything now. Even as he fought against the marrionette strings, Zexion's orders forced him to reach into his pockets, pull out the key ring, find the small silver key that would unlock all of Zexion's chains...and forced him to, one-by-one, remove all of Zexion's binds.

The last silver cuff clattered away into the darkness, and Zexion now rose--fully, no longer impeded by the chains. He held his hands in front of him, staring for the longest time at his wrists apparently, now freed for the first time in weeks--maybe longer--from the silver cuffs. Dark, ugly red burns encircled Zexion's wrists, which the vampire regarded with a twitch of annoyance, but he tugged his sleeve cuffs--torn and frayed as they were--over the burns. Then, turning to face Roxas, a slight, insidious smile on his face:

"Come, my servant. Let us go. I believe that I have some...ah..._unfinished _business with your mentor, don't you agree? Now, follow me."

_I'm sorry, Axel, _thought Roxas, anger and misery welling up inside him. But he had no choice except to follow Zexion out of the cell, up the stairs...to the study. It was his master's command. He could not disobey.

* * *

Axel was poring over several sheets of paper when Zexion and Roxas entered. More like barged in--Zexion did his best to make the entrance as dramatic as possible. Perhaps it would have been easier if it _wasn't _dramatic, if it was just a furtive sneak attack...but he couldn't help it. Axel had kept him prisoner for almost two months, had raped him, had tortured him. It would lack a sense of justice if Zexion tried to dispatch Axel sneakily.

It _had _to be grand.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" said Axel, looking vaguely annoyed as he looked up from the papers. Then--_swoosh_--the papers had fallen to the ground like so many white birds, followed seconds later by the _clunk _of his reading glasses. "Oh--what the--the _hell! _Roxas!"

Zexion almost laughed at Axel's reaction--it was pure gold. Just pure comedy gold. The slayer was just _standing _there, frozen as still as a statue, surrounded by papers (and his glasses) at his feet, his eyes wide and almost bugging out of his face, his skin the color of milk. His hands were trembling faintly, but otherwise he wasn't moving an inch. Just frozen in his shock.

"Axel!" This was the boy, Roxas, and now Zexion's new servant, close behind Zexion. His eyes were as wide as Axel's, and his skin was just as pale--though not from shock, but from his half-transformation into a vampire. Roxas hadn't handled the transformation well. Beneath the new sickening pallor of his skin, his veins formed ghostly blue networks, and he couldn't stop shaking, his body unable to adjust to the rapid change that had come over it. Give him time...he would adjust.

For now...Zexion held his hand up, indicating for Roxas's silence. "Quiet. I'd appreciate being able to hold a conversation with _him _without your interference, if you please."

Roxas's throat convulsed and he seemed to be struggling to spit words out--but he fell silent, anyhow. Zexion smirked, satisfied, and turned to face the stricken Axel.

"What...what...what the fuck did you _do _to him?" he screamed, his voice rising and then cracking mid-sentence. Zexion winced; the effect was really quite unpleasant.

"What do you think?" Zexion lowered his voice to match Axel raising his. "You are the trained slayer. You should know...understand...recognize...the signs..."

"_No!" _Oh, Axel _exploded _at that. With a roar of rage, he had seized a gun from underneath his desk and aimed it directly at Zexion's heart. Zexion almost took a step back in surprise, but he managed to collect himself and merely fixed Axel with a chilly smirk, which Axel returned with an inarticulate snarl and a tremor that coursed through his entire body.

"Defend me," said Zexion quietly. Roxas, unwilling as he was, stepped in between Zexion and Axel, his arms extended, shielding his master from attack. Zexion suddenly found himself wishing for a camera, so he could record the look of shocked hurt on Axel's face. It was _priceless._

"Roxas..." whispered Axel, his voice quiet, broken--shattered by hurt. He shrank back, the gun falling down to his side with no further protest from his part. He was trembling so badly that Zexion was surprised he could even stand. "Roxas...please...you don't have to do this..."

"He does. I ordered him," was Zexion's swift, flat response. Roxas couldn't speak for himself, as much as he might have wanted to--even though his throat was still convulsing in a valiant effort to force words out.

"Please--Roxas--_please_--" Axel's voice almost descended into a sob at the end, but he managed to catch himself in time, straightening up but never once removing his eyes from Roxas's face. Grief--pain--betrayal--shock--anger--flashed across his brilliant green eyes, each burst of emotion filling Zexion with an even stronger sense of smugness. In a way, this was just a grand version of what he'd done that other time, when he had laid bare Axel's sins before him...

And best of all, Axel couldn't harm him _now. _Zexion was protected, so long as he had Roxas to guard him.

"Roxas--you can do it--_resist _him--I _know _you can--he's weak, he's pathetic." Axel's tone was pleading, but fierce...and _something _about the way he kept his eyes fixed on Roxas's, about the intensity of his gaze..._something _about that disturbed Zexion. But Zexion didn't muse for too long on it, grabbing Roxas by the shoulder and drawing him back from Axel.

"Diverting towards matters of, ah, _greater _interest--"

"Greater interest up your fucking _ass!" _yelled Axel in one furious breath. Again, he'd lifted the gun, cocking it straight at Zexion's head. Zexion sighed; Axel _had _chosen a good target. Roxas was shorter than Zexion, so it would be harder for him to intercept a head shot for Zexion. "Look what you did to Roxas! You son of a fucking _bitch!"_

"I did what was necessary to assist my escape." Zexion kept his voice brisk, business-like. But that wouldn't deter Axel.

"_Escape! _Like hell you're _escaping!" _Axel spat the word as a curse, taking a threatening step closer to Zexion. Roxas maneuvered around Zexion, though, always keeping a respectable distance between the vampire and Axel. Zexion smirked inwardly; he'd picked a good servant.

"I believe I am, and you cannot stop me." He tried to kept his tone as business-like as before--but couldn't help the faint hint of smugness that had slipped into his voice. Truly, he had reason to be proud. He, Zexion, the mere incubus, the lowest of lows--outwitting the heir of one of the greatest vampire slaying families, successfully escaping without a single scratch on his own body (besides the ones already there)...though he had to owe _part _of his success to Roxas. If the boy had never come down to the cell, why, Zexion would never have been able to use him.

"Damn you!" Axel fired, but it was a pure warning shot--the bullet buried itself into the wall high above Zexion's head. Zexion sighed and tsked.

"What happened to your aim?"

"Change Roxas back!" Axel had switched tracks completely, now focusing his attention on Roxas again. Roxas, for his part, kept staring into Axel's eyes as well, even as he shifted back and forth to keep Zexion securely behind him. "Change him back to the way he was!"

"Transformations cannot be undone," replied Zexion flatly. "You know that. He is vampire forever. Or, I should say, _half_ vampire, since I didn't complete the transformation. Much to my benefit."

"How? How the hell _could _you--? He came down to you because he felt _sorry _for you! Isn't that right, Roxas? Right? You felt sorry for the fucking vampire so you came down to--oh, dear fucking God," groaned Axel, his voice breaking again, and he turned to the side, too overwhelmed to continue speaking.

"Axel..." Zexion twitched in surprise. He thought he'd ordered Roxas against speaking...but perhaps he hadn't given a strong or specific enough order. He phrased a more concrete order in his mind and was almost about to utter it, but then decided there was no harm in letting Roxas talk. Who knew...? Maybe he'd say something entertaining--or best of all, distracting.

"Roxas! I'm sorry!" Axel took a pained step closer to Roxas, holding his hand out as if to touch his young protege; Roxas responded by taking a step backwards, to better guard Zexion. "Roxas--"

"No...I'm the one who should be saying I'm sorry," whispered Roxas, his voice low and hoarse. "I was...I was an idiot. I shouldn't have--you were right, all the time, everything you said...I shouldn't have felt sorry for him. If I hadn't..."

"Roxas, don't say that! How could you have known?" cried Axel, trying to circle closer to Roxas--but Roxas kept circling back, Zexion's order to guard him forcing him away from his mentor...

"But I _should _have! You were right when you said he was a manipulator." Roxas balled his hands into fists and shook his heads, looking frustrated--not at Axel, not at Zexion, but at _himself. _"I should have listened...he was just manipulating me all along. I'm so sorry, Axel...I didn't listen to you and now look at me! I'm--_I'm_--"

He choked off, unable to finish. Most likely, unable to declare the words that were anathema to every vampire slayer, that most of them only dreamed about in their nightmares, words that most never had an opportunity to say and words they prayed they never would _have _to say:

_"I'm a vampire."_

"Roxas..." Axel couldn't say anything beyond that low, plaintive whisper. He hung his head, seemingly wracked by shame. Roxas held up a hand as if to comfort Axel, but then let his hand drop, motionless, to his side, silent.

Zexion decided that, as amusing as this all was, it had to come to an end. It was time--time to get down to business. No more tears and whining and self-pity. Time, now, only for the thing he had come here for. It was time--time to _escape._

"Well, now that we've all made up," said Zexion, clapping his hands to divert attention back to him--not that Axel and Roxas _had _made up, but whatever, that was a minor detail, "it's time to return to business. As sorry as I am to say this, _Master, _you are nothing more than an impediment to my plans. And impediments must be removed..._by whatever means necessary."_

He let his voice drop a few degress at the last word, become harsher, more frigid. He obtained the desired reaction--Roxas turned to face him, his blue eyes widening, terror arresting his expression when he _understood..._

"No! Damn you! I forbid you!" roared Axel, his voice rising. "I'm still your master, so you'd better obey, got it fucking _memorized?"_

"_I _need to obey. There is no such restriction on Roxas," said Zexion smoothly. He couldn't help but chuckle when Axel took a step back, looking like he'd been slapped, an expression of pure horror on his face. Axel immediately turned to Roxas, holding his hands out, looking desperate.

"Roxas...no matter what he orders you...try to resist..._don't_..."

"Axel..." Or maybe, "Augh..." Zexion wasn't sure; it was hard to make out Roxas's choked sob.

"Now, do it," said Zexion tonelessly--but a savage delight had begun to well up within him, deep within his stomach, rising to chest and spreading to his every limb, invigorating him with excitement. At last, at _long last, _he was getting his revenge, he was defeating Axel, once and for all, he was sending Axel where the slayer deserved to be, and when that was finished he was going to find Demyx, without Axel's interference...

"Roxas! Don't!"

"_Axel, help me--stop me--"_

"Do it, Roxas. _Stab him."_

"_No!" _Axel leapt for Roxas, but what he was trying to accomplish was unclear--because the action simply made him an easier target. Axel grabbed Roxas by the forearm, bearing the boy to the ground with a shuddering thump that sent papers flying through the air like doves from a gunshot. But even as Axel twisted Roxas's arm behind his back, his face a mask of anguish as he tried to force Roxas down, Roxas's other hand snaked to his belt, where a silver-tipped knife hung...

"Do it!" shouted Zexion, raising his voice to be heard above the ruckus Axel was making. "What are you waiting for! _Stab him! _Stab him--make sure he _never _gets up! _Stab him, Roxas, stab him--"_

"N-no, no, _no," _whispered Roxas, shaking his head over and over again, his eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down his face...but his fingers closed around the handle of the knife, and slowly drew it from its sheath...Axel's other hand flew to Roxas's wrist, tightening around it, trying to hold it down to the floor, but Roxas struggled, trying to yank his arm free from Axel's grip. "No--Axel--I'm so _sorry_--please--don't--I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_--"

"Fight it, Roxas, _fight it, _I know you can, I know you don't want to, _fight it," _gasped Axel. It was now taking nearly all of his effort to keep Roxas's arms pinned to the floor--the cords on his neck were standing out, sweat was pouring down his face, he was gritting his teeth in frustrated effort. But Roxas wouldn't be kept down; his left arm thrashed and writhed in Axel's grip as ferociously as a captured snake, resisting the slayer's efforts to subdue it...

"That's it, Roxas," said Zexion eagerly, taking a step closer and holding out his hands in an encouraging gesture. "That's it. Just like that. Stab him. Straight through the heart, Roxas. Stab him straight in the heart. Stab him so that he can never get up again. Stab him, Roxas! Stab him!"

"N..._no_...no...I w-won't, you _can't," _Roxas sobbed, but he continued fighting against Axel anyway, continued trying to free his arm. Then, in his thrashing, he kneed Axel firmly in the stomach--and Axel fell back with a curse and a cry of shocked pain, falling to the floor, releasing his grip on Roxas's arm--

And in the next instant, he was pinned to the floor, Roxas on top of him, the quivering knife held centimeters above the slayer's heart.

"Roxas..." A look of pure horror--and realization--dawned on Axel's face. Realization of his upcoming _death. _Axel had seen it. There would be no escape.

"Do it," said Zexion, his voice quiet, but ringing with authority. He took a step closer, and another, and another, until he was looming directly above Axel and Roxas, the frozen tableau, the knife ready to plunge into its target... "Do it, Roxas. _Stab him."_

"Aaunghh..!" Roxas half-sobbed, half-screamed. His arms were quivering insanely, his wiry muscles taught against the pale skin--but no amount of effort, either physical or mental, could stop him. Nothing could. Once Zexion had given the order, there could be no turning back. "_Axel_--"

Axel met Roxas's eyes, his gaze as suffused with pain as Roxas's. But then, with a deep, sighing exhalation, Axel relaxed, his muscles untensing, his head sinking to the floor in seeming contentment. Roxas stared confusedly down at Axel, blinking back a film of wetness from his bright blue eyes--though there was no stopping the trails of tears that coursed down his pale cheeks. Axel simply smiled at Roxas's confusion, a warm and friendly, yet sad, smile.

"It's all right, Roxas. No matter what you do...even if you _do _choose to do it..." He paused, seemingly trying to choose the right words, and when he continued his voice rang with steady confidence--and something _more. _Something akin to--something almost like--_love._

"I forigve you, Roxas."

"_Axel!" _Roxas's scream was tormented, bursting with anger, self-hatred, pain. A flash of silver--and then--

Axel's entire body convulsed as the knife sank into his chest, vanishing up to the hilt. Axel's eyes flew open in shock, and his hands automatically flew to the knife, trying to drag it out--but that instinctive reaction would probably just hurt him more. In any case, Roxas's was pushing violently against Axel, shoving the knife further in even as Axel struggled and Roxas himself wept and shivered in self-hatred.

And the _blood _came. Came in torrents and bursts, gushing thick and red out of Axel's heart as Roxas stabbed the knife deeper, deeper...came coughing out of Axel's mouth as his eyes clouded and his struggles gradually ceased...Zexion almost couldn't handle it. Almost. All of that _blood, _so rich and red and hot and flowing--it was exactly what he'd dreamed of for almost two months. It was a bit pathetic, if he thought about it--dreaming about _food. _But he couldn't help it. All those days of surviving on tepid, bitter blood from the blood banks had left him craving a _true _meal, left him craving the kind of blood that now gushed from Axel's prone body, staining his carpet, splattering on the horrified Roxas...

But Zexion managed to hold his animal instincts in check. He stepped back, so that the tempting scent of Axel's blood didn't draw him further in. No, as much poetic justice as it would be to feast on Axel's blood...it wouldn't be wise to do so. Not now. He had to keep his wits about him.

"Axel...aughh...Axel...ahhh..." A voice, plaintive, broken beyond belief, more miserable and lost than any Zexion had heard before, suddenly broke through the haze of the vampire's thoughts. Alarmed, Zexion whirled around--to see that Roxas was still kneeling over Axel's prone body. He was shivering, his hands still around the blood-stained knife, his face white, tears flowing down his cheeks and dripping on to Axel's body. The noises he was making barely sounded like speech--they were whimperings, shivering sobs, much like a small child would cry in the middle of the night, wracked by nightmares only he could understand.

"_Axel..._ohh..._Axel_..._I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." _Roxas lowered his head over Axel's chest, clinging tightly to Axel's bloodied shirt, convulsing with sobs. "_Aungh Axel..."_

Well, as amusing as Roxas's grief was...it was time to go. Snapping his fingers, Zexion said, imbuing his words with the sharp authority of a command. "Time to go. Get up. Let's go. We'll make our escape, now, before anyone can sound the alarm. _Stand!"_

With a great shudder of reluctance, Roxas pulled away from Axel's body and stumbled to his feet--but never removed his eyes from the slayer lying prone and bleeding, and rapidly cooling, on the floor. Lurching, his movements uncertain, he made his way over to where Zexion leaned against the wall, watching impatiently. Blood was staining his shirt but he didn't seem to care; in fact, his eyes had become dull and blank. Empty, as if his soul had died within him.

Zexion supposed it would be rather traumatizing, being turned into a vampire and forced to kill your own mentor...but the state of Roxas's psychology didn't matter to him as long as the boy could still be of use to Zexion. Throwing one long, last look at Axel's prone body, he couldn't help but spit at it, and snarl, in a low voice alive with triumph:

"_You brought this upon yourself."_

Then, wordlessly, Zexion turned and exited the room, not bothering to see if Roxas was following. He didn't need to bother, though--he could hear the soft footsteps of the boy behind him. They entered the hall, sweeping silently towards the stairs. However, an obstacle Zexion hadn't expected to encounter awaited them--the butler, Saunders, and the scullery maid were huddled at the top of the stairs, quivering and white-faced. _Damn..._but Zexion supposed he _had _made a bit of a racket...

"Out of the way," he said, his voice like ice as he approached them, hands behind his back and head lowered in a threatening gesture. "If you do not wish to die...you will let us pass. And you will not tell _anyone _what just happened. _Am I making myself perfectly clear?"_

The scullery maid squeaked and ducked behind Saunders, who cleared his throat several times and turned several degrees paler before managing to croak out, "Um...uh...of course, of course...yes, yes, Lord Vampire, sir--"

_Lord Vampire? _Rather...over-the-top for Zexion's tastes, but if the humans were deferring to him, who cared...? He flashed Saunders a brief smirk that seemed to terrify the remaining courage out of the butler, if Saunders's reaction of keeling over unconscious was anything to go by. Zexion unleashed an amused chuckle that caused the girl to whimper in fear and cower against the wall, and then he swept down the stairs, ignoring both humans completely. Roxas tagged close behind him, silent, jaw clenched tightly.

Zexion ignored the opulent surroundings, focused now only one thing--finding the door and leaving behind this hell forever. He couldn't help but quicken his stride when he saw the door, crossing the foyer in record time and throwing the door open in his eagerness to leave--

The whispering coolness of the night air against Zexion's face startled him--but only for a moment. He straightened up, turning his eyes to the heavens, revolving on the spot with his arms spread around him, drinking in the majesty of the night. Of the cool air, the cold pinpricks of the stars in the sky, the sheer _vastness _of the space around him...

Oh, how he'd missed this. How he'd longed for this, in all those dark days of imprisonment. How he'd longed for the open night, without a single restraint on his body...and now he'd found it. He had enslaved Roxas; he had destroyed Axel. He had escaped. And now, he was going to find Demyx, on his own terms, with his own skills.

He was, at long last, free.

* * *

Dun dun dun...and I'll leave you to absorb that cliffhanger for now. Part one of _Tainted But Beautiful _is over and done for.

Chapter eleven will be "North", and will be the first chapter in Part 2, "The Secrets". Plot will begin to be revealed. Preview here:

_"Enough." Lexaeus, in contrast to his comrades, had not shouted--but the low, growling tone of his voice, dripping in disapproval, was enough to stop the other two vampires mid-argument. Zexion and Vexen, who had been leaning close to each other, jabbing accusing fingers at the other's chest, leaped back immediately, turning to cast sullen looks at Lexaeus. Roxas almost laughed from the bizarre comedy of the situation--it was almost like Vexen and Zexion were two schoolchildren who'd been stopped mid-fight by a teacher._

Yeah, guess who shows up in chapter next? I'll try to get it to you by the end of this week, but no promises since my family's going skiing Saturday...so yeah. Slow update. Bide your time, and in the meantime, review! I'm overwhelmed by the response this story has gotten; it really warms my heart to know people are reading this and taking the time to comment on it. So keep reading, and keep commenting!


	11. North

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_11. North_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: All right, it's the end of the week, so here's the last update before I go skiing for four days. Well, _I'm _not actually skiing. The rest of my family is. I'm going to stay nice and warm in the cabin, thanxverymuch.

Part one is over and done with, and so we commence part two, in which the plot really starts to develop. Not much to say on this chapter, but I feel it's the most intensely AkuRoku so far, so if you're looking forward to that pairing, good for you. Also, Vexen and Lexaeus show up...meaning some nice scenes between them and Zexion. I'm sorry, but I love the basement trio and their dynamic, so...I couldn't help but put it in here.

Read, and enjoy!

* * *

"Where..." choked Roxas. "Where are we going?"

Roxas felt nauseous, but wasn't sure exactly why. Perhaps it was the violent up-and-down pitching of the cabin, causing his stomach to lurch and flip and flop in ways it never had on solid ground. But he felt there was more to it. There was much, _much _more...

Much more. Red blood, spreading shockingly scarlet over the white of Axel's shirt...Axel's face, crumpled in pain...Axel's eyes, green and moist, but gazing at Roxas not with accusation and loathing but...but peace. Calm. _Forgiveness._

_"I forgive you, Roxas." _

Those had been Axel's last words to Roxas. Roxas couldn't think of more pathetic, more unsuitable, final words for a man--for a man like _Axel. _A man so confident and strong, who had devoted his entire life to destroying vampires...killed by the hand of his own student, and, to add insult to injury, the last thing he'd said had _not _been the proper thing--had _not _been a spat accusation--but instead soft words of forgiveness.

_You were a fighter, Axel! You should have gone down _fighting, _god damn it! Why--why--to say something like that to _me_--_

_"I forgive you." _He didn't _need _anyone's forgiveness--he didn't _want _to be forgiven for what he'd done! Roxas had done a horrible thing. An _evil _thing. He deserved to be punished for it, but Axel hadn't. Axel had forgiven him. And Zexion...Zexion wasn't doing _anything, _and that made Roxas even angrier. All the vampire was doing was perching on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window--port hole, Roxas supposed, in naval parlance--and not saying a single word. Roxas had been _expecting _Zexion to blame him, to spit upon him the words of fury Axel had not. It would fit in Zexion's nature as a manipulator...to make Roxas feel guilty for Axel's death.

But Zexion wasn't doing anything. He hadn't said anything to Roxas ever since they had left--that place--except to give a few curt commands such as, "Follow me", "Stay quiet", and "Lay low" and the such. Roxas had obeyed because he couldn't fight against the marionette strings, and had followed Zexion to the port, where Zexion had first shoplifted clothes and sunglasses from a convenience store, and then accosted a man on a midnight stroll and stolen his wallet. Roxas honestly wasn't as bothered as he should have been because he'd seen plenty of crime in his days himself, and had even committed some (_petty _crimes...). Then, Zexion had slipped into a building and bought tickets for a passenger ship using the stolen money, it seemed. Roxas wished he'd payed more attention so that he would know _where _they were going.

But he hadn't. In truth, he'd been--disoriented. Disoriented primarily by the bright lights in the building--how could the people inside _stand _it? The lights were harsh, cutting, sending spasm of pain through Roxas's head as he struggled and failed to adjust to them. Zexion had said something about Roxas being ill--even epileptic, perhaps--to the woman he'd been buying tickets from, to dissuage suspicion. Roxas had certainly _felt _ill. How come he'd never noticed before, how _bright _lights could be...?

Worse than the lights were the _smells, _though. The instant they'd approached the unsuspecting woman, Roxas had been hit by a powerful wave of--of _scent. _How could he have never noticed how people smelled before? How _strongly _they smelled? How thick and rich their blood was, pumping and flowing in their veins...how, how, had had he been able to _stand _it? He'd wanted, almost, to leap up and rip her heart from her chest at that moment, to consume her rich and intoxicating-smelling blood...but again, Zexion had held him back.

"_Abstain yourself. Greater prizes await," _the vampire had murmured to Roxas. Then he'd grabbed Roxas by the wrist and dragged him to a waiting area, where he'd pulled on a pair of sunglasses, plunked down with the Sunday paper and began to fill out the crossword.

Roxas should have taken that opportunity to ask Zexion just where the hell they were going, since they were doing nothing but sitting there. But again, his mind was working too slowly to react. The lights were still burning, achingly bright, above him, and sometimes midnight stragglers passed close and he would catch a whiff of their blood and then...

After a while, Zexion seemed to have noticed Roxas's discomfort and helped somewhat by handing the boy a pair of sunglasses. That helped block out the aching lights, at the very least...

"_Of course, you're apt to me more sensible to light of any kind, being newly made," _Zexion had said in a clipped, matter-of-fact tone, tapping a shoplifted pencil against the crossword. "_Thirteenth President of the United States of America. Fillmore. Thank you."_

It was that instant that the sheer _severity _of the situation struck Roxas--no, not the fact that Millard Fillmore was the thirteenth President, but what Zexion had said before. _Sensible to light...newly made..._ At first, the words had rung dully through Roxas's mind, echoing without meaning, but then, gradually, he began to attach sense to the words...and shrunk against his seat in horror.

_Newly made. _He was--he was--he _was_--

A _vampire._

No, no, no, _no! _He couldn't be--he didn't _want _to be--this was just a horrific nightmare, that was all; a nightmare where Axel had died and Roxas had been turned, but that was all, a nightmare...and besides, if Roxas really _was _a vampire, he wouldn't be able to think, would he...? He'd just be a made monster, whose only thought was to madly consume blood. But then, with a spasm of horror, he remembered what Zexion had said earlier...about stopping the transformation halfway...

But did this mean that he _wasn't _a full vampire? Did this mean that there was still some--_some_--speck of humanity left in him? Did it mean that he had a chance to even...to even _turn back?_

"_Transformations cannot be undone," _Zexion had stated in a flat, precise voice. Whatever Roxas was...he'd be this _forever._

The question was now of how long "forever" would be.

They had boarded, after long hours of sitting silently side-by-side in the waiting area. Zexion had finished both the crossword and all of the sudoku puzzles on the puzzle page, and, bored, had bought an entire sudoku book using the stolen money. He had been intently filling it in up to the second they boarded. Roxas was quite sure he'd heard someone announce where their ship was going, but he hadn't been listening...he'd been too disoriented, trying to move within the crowd even while hundreds of different scents, each as intoxicating as the last, pulled on him in every direction...

And now they were aboard the ship, pitching in the high seas, and Roxas _still _had no idea where they were going.

Hence the question. Roxas decided he had had enough of sitting in the chair, with only his own thoughts for company. He didn't like the direction his thoughts were going--didn't like _thinking _at all because inevitably, he'd _always _return to that one topic, the one that dominated his life now--_he was a_--

So to distract himself, he'd pitched the question to Zexion. Zexion, however, didn't seem to have heard at first--or, more probably, was just ignoring Roxas. He continued to stare out of the window, his sudoku book perched on his lap--but he hadn't been doing any of the puzzles for a long time already. He seemed to be as lost in thought as Roxas had been, his dark blue eyes distant, fixed on a point far across the horizon that Roxas couldn't see...

"Um," said Roxas again, his voice ringing surprisingly loud in the silent cabin. "So...so where are we going again? And why are we taking a ship? Wouldn't it be, um...faster...by plane?"

Not that Roxas had ever left the country before--or even the city--but he knew enough to know that planes were faster than ships. It was just common sense.

"Hmm?" For the first time, Zexion turned from his intent scrutiny of the window, facing Roxas with a slightly bemused expression on his face. "Oh. Yes. That. We are going North."

"North?" Something about the way Zexion had said it seemed to imply North with a capital N, the kind of _North _that conjured up images of snow and ice, of polar bears and igloos. "What d'you mean, 'North'?"

"I mean what I say," was all Zexion said, his words flat and toneless.

"Then why...why couldn't we have taken a plane?" said Roxas. The ship gave another particularly nasty jolt, and he almost fell--but managed to catch himself in time. His stomach, however, felt like it had dropped down to his toes, though that didn't explain why nausea was rising up in his esophagus.

"That man didn't have enough for a plane ticket, let alone two," said Zexion, turning away from Roxas again. "And for flights you have to pay beforehand. It would be too much of a hassle to find a flight that had open seats for us...and besides, there are...ah..._other_...reasons why I chose travel by ship..."

He trailed off, after that, and said nothing more to Roxas. Roxas frowned in Zexion's direction, waiting for a little more--for example, just _why _they were going North in the first place. But Zexion remained silent, so Roxas, with a heavy sigh, dropped his queries and resolved to simply sit, and wait, for Zexion to reveal whatever those "other reasons" were...or, as he suspected Zexion wouldn't tell him even that, for the ship to reach its destination. Wherever the hell _that _might be.

* * *

Roxas found out Zexion's "other reasons" just that afternoon.

He was sprawled in the chair, trying unsuccessfully to fight back his mounting nausea. The seas had become choppier, the skies outside grayer; a storm was threatening. Zexion didn't seem to care, as he was still perched on the edge of the bed, now absorbed in his sudoku book. Roxas couldn't believe how _casual _Zexion was being even while the ship was pitching up and down and Roxas's stomach was lurching backwards and forwards and all sorts of directions. He wanted to throw up, but wondered what would come up, now that he was a--now that he was no longer human.

But maybe, just maybe, this was hopeful sign--a sign that he had _some _element of humanity left, even beneath the blood-craving monster he'd become.

_Pathetic, _he thought, in a voice that wasn't quite his--a deeper voice, more taunting, almost condescending, but in a good-natured way. Hearing that achingly-familiar voice caused Roxas's heart to spasm in a fresh wave of pain, when he realized he would never be able to hear it again...but he had to concede it had a point. Pathetic, that he'd become so desperate he was grasping at all sorts of wild straws--_nauesa?!_--for proof of his humanity.

How? How the hell had this all happened? How was he still _alive? _He should have died--his heart should have caved in from the grief--from the trifecta of losing both his friends and his mentor, _and _becoming a...losing his humanity.

But he was still alive. For how long, Roxas didn't know, for he was quite sure Zexion would kill him as soon as he no longer was useful. For now, though, he was alive. And he had no idea why.

A knock at the door startled Roxas out of his miserable thoughts, and he jumped, surprised. Zexion, too, looked up from his sudoku book, frowning at the door.

"Um...room service," called a slightly nervous sounding female voice.

"Room service?" Roxas whipped around to face Zexion so fast he could hear his neck crack, but he didn't care--he was just _shocked. _Why had Zexion ordered room service, when neither of them could eat human food...?

"Yes," said Zexion, responding to Roxas's shock with a sardonic look that seemed to imply that Roxas was an idiot. "I am rather..._hungry_...at the moment, you know."

"What--" sputtered Roxas, wanting to challenge Zexion further--what kind of joke was _this_--

But then, with a cold jolt of horror that shot down his spine and tingled through his fingers, immobilizing him, Roxas realized.

"You can't!" he cried, after he'd managed to suck in the breath to speak. "You--you _can't_!"

"Who says I can't?" Zexion raised a skeptical eyebrow, throwing Roxas a look that was almost pitying. "_You? _You cannot tell me to do anything, as a matter of fact. Come in." He had stood up, striding to the door and throwing it open a single swift motion. Helplessly, Roxas watched as a young woman in a uniform entered the room, pushing a cart ahead of her...

Roxas was quite sure that if he was still--that in his old life--he would have fallen over salivating in voracious hunger. Certainly, from the smell of the food on the silver-covered platters on the cart seemed to suggest that it was rich, far richer than any Roxas had had before in his previous life, or even with--back at the house. But it just didn't...appeal...to him anymore. He could smell it all, the lobster, the puddings, the soups--but he didn't _care._

The scent that truly caught Roxas's attention was that of the woman herself...or rather, her _blood. _The scent filled his nostrils, making him feel light-headed--and causing something to burn deep within him. He realized, for the time, that he was hungry. No, _more _than hungry--ravening. Voracious. Burning with a hunger that caused his knees to go weak and his entire being to tremble, _tremble, _out of desire of that blood, so sweet and rich and coursing steadily through the woman's veins, with each pump of her heart...

"Er...um...enjoy your meal, sirs..." said the woman awkwardly, an imperceptible tremor arresting her hands as she turned her eyes from Zexion, to Roxas, to Zexion again...taking in, Roxas realized, their bizarre appearance...their deathly pallor, the sunglasses they were still wearing even inside, the hastily-applied bandages on Zexion's face...

And perhaps, she was just a little bit--just the _slightest_ tad--unnerved by the look Zexion was fixing her with. Even with his eyes hidden, there was no mistaking the smirk curving his lips, an eager, anticipating smirk that revealed the very tip of his fangs...

"Indeed, madam," said Zexion, his tone light, his voice polite--suddenly, Roxas flashed back to his idle comparisons of Zexion to a leisured aristocrat. "We shall enjoy this meal very much. Thank you for providing so amply for us..."

"Ah...you're very welcome, sir," said the woman, looking flustered. A plain-looking woman, she had probably never before in her life been addressed in such a silky--and _seductive_--tone before by a man. And a man whom Roxas had to grudgingly concede was rather good-looking as well...but that was all part of Zexion's act. "Well, I suppose I'd better get going now..."

"No, stay, please," said Zexion, his words still honey-sweet, and in a flash he was in front of the woman, his fingers closed around her wrist...the woman stared down in wide-eyed terror at her wrist...at Zexion's clawed fingers steadily tightening their grip...and a look of horrified recognition dawned on her face.

"Y--you're..." she whimpered, her lips trembling. "You're a--"

"Shh," whispered Zexion, gently placing a finger over her mouth to shush her. The woman fell silent, but she was still trembling hysterically--and Roxas could feel the fear radiating from her in palpable waves, almost smothering even the quivering temptation of her blood. She glanced back and forth, her eyes frantic, searching for an escape--but it was too late already.

"Zexion, stop--" began Roxas, standing up and holding out an arm to--to _what? Stop _Zexion?

"Don't tell me what to do." Zexion's voice was calm, but low and filled with a dark, insidious intent that caused his words to tremble with a near-hysterical edge of delight. "You have no idea...you have _no idea_...how long I've been waiting for this. You can't stop me now. _No one can."_

With that fiercely whispered pronouncement, Zexion lowered his mouth over the trembling woman's neck--and bit.

The woman let out a long, shuddering gasp, and then fell still, her head lolling to the side, the color draining from her face. For a wild moment, Roxas thought that she'd simply fallen asleep--but then the blood bloomed from her neck, where Zexion still had his fangs clamped into her, spilling in bright crimson streaks down her pale skin, flowing more freely than Roxas had ever seen blood flow before.

"No...stop..." he gasped in horror, but he couldn't deny that part of him--that raging, burning beast--was clamoring for the blood. _Wanted _the blood that Zexion was so eagerly lapping up, sucking from the wound itself and occasionally pausing to lick up the blood flowing down his victim's white neck. Roxas tried to deny it--tried to push it back--this bestial side--but it _wouldn't, _it was rumbling and starving and it _wanted _that blood more than anything--

"Mm...ahhhhh..." Zexion unleashed a long, deeply satisfied sigh as he surfaced from his victim, wiping the blood from his mouth as he did so. He flashed Roxas an impish smirk--a smirk that stabbed straight through Roxas's heart in its _familiarity. _Just like...just like _him..._

"Marvelous," said Zexion with another sigh, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, looking for all the world like a scientist who'd solved a grand theoretical puzzle--or a general who had won a momentous battle--or a prisoner freed after years of solitary confinement--in other words, like someone who had every reason to be supremely satisfied with himself. He was smiling, a quiet smile that would almost be _innocent _if it wasn't for...if it wasn't for what Zexion had just _done_...

"You're...you..." gasped Roxas, backing off even further, though he ended up feeling like an idiot when the ship pitched and he fell on his rear end on the floor. "You're..."

"It's been the longest time since I'd been able to truly _sate _my hunger..." murmured Zexion, still smiling, drumming his fingers absently over the still-bleeding wound on his victim's neck. "_You, _on the other hand, have never been able to sate your hunger. At least not until now. Here--I saved some for you. Aren't I a considerate master?"

"_No!" _cried Roxas in horror, staggering backwards as Zexion grabbed the corpse by the neck and held it in front of it, as if offering it to Roxas--because he _was. _It was horrifying--the woman was white as death, her face frozen in a mask of horror--but it wasn't just her appearance that revolted Roxas. Roxas had seen plenty of corpses in his time; too many, perhaps. But the difference now was--

_Her blood. _Rich and thick, flowing so freely, its intoxicating scent leaking all _over_...Roxas could feel his knees quivering and knew, just _knew, _that he was ready to spring, ready to leap and accept Zexion's offering, ready to eagerly suck the rest of her rich and steaming blood...

_Don't do it! You can't! _shouted a voice in his head, again a voice that was different from his own, now no longer taunting, but angry, filled with disapproval. _Don't do it, Roxas!_

Roxas obeyed. He held out, struggling against his instincts, against the monster within that just wanted to drink that blood, who cared what anyone thought--

But he _wasn't _a monster. He was...he was _Roxas. _He was Axel's Roxas, a vampire slayer, a boy with strong moral convictions, a boy who _hated _vampires because of what they'd done to Hayner and Pence and Olette, and what they'd made _him _do to Axel--

"Come, Roxas, it's no good denying your hunger," said Zexion, still giving Roxas a haughty and insidious smile. His hand moved to the corpse's hair, tugging the head back so more of the pale throat--and the blood--was visible to Roxas. "Have your fill. I won't drink any more."

"No!" cried Roxas again, taking a step backwards, trying desperately to resist the scent of the blood--he _had _to--this _wasn't _him! "No! I won't! I'm not a monster! I won't do this! It's _wrong!"_

"What's so 'wrong' about it?" An annoyed expression flashed across Zexion's face, if only for a moment. "You're a vampire. This is a human. You must feed. It's _logical."_

"I'm _not _a vampire, goddammit!" howled Roxas, clenching his hands into fists and even daring to advance towards Zexion--not to drink the woman's blood, but to...to _attack. _He didn't get to, though, because the ship pitched again and he fell over once more.

"Don't be an idiot." Zexion fixed Roxas with a withering look. "As much as you try to deny it...you _cannot. _The hunger burning within you speaks otherwise. You are not human anymore, Roxas. You are a vampire and you are my servant."

"Like _hell _I am!" Roxas had no idea why he was protesting--he _knew _everything Zexion was saying was true. But he still fought against it; he still didn't want to believe it. It didn't matter if it made sense or not. What mattered was that _he didn't want to accept it. _He was going to fight, fight like Axel hadn't before his death. Fight like Axel would want him to.

Fight against his very nature, fight against reason, fight against logic, fight against the world itself if he had to. But heaven be _damned _if he was just going to lie back and take everything that happened to him passively. The time for _that _was over.

_Fight him, Roxas, don't give in, _urged Axel in Roxas's head. _You can overcome this. I _know _you can. You can do it, Roxas._

Roxas could barely even smell the blood anymore. All he knew--all he was aware of--was himself, was the vampire opposite him, scowling at him disapprovingly, was _Axel. _Because even if Axel was dead...he wasn't _gone. _He was still there. With Roxas. Encouraging him, chiding him if he had to. Forgiving him. One way or the other, he was _there _and it didn't matter what anyone else did or said. Didn't matter if Zexion said he was a vampire, and he couldn't change his nature.

If Axel wanted him to fight, then by God he would _fight._

"You _fool." _Zexion's tone was heavy with disapproval. "Very well then. If you want to starve, then go right ahead. _I _don't care. Eventually you'll have to give in...eventually you'll give in to your hunger. Everyone does, in the end..."

He trailed off into a threatening hiss, before turning away from Roxas and kicking the woman's body under the bed in a single, dispassionate motion. There was a sickening thud as the body hit the wall--well, _bulkhead_--and then nothing else. A trail of blood splatters on the carpet was the only sign the woman had ever been there.

Zexion turned back to the sudoku book and began filling it out again, ignoring Roxas completely. Roxas remained standing where he was, frozen, his every limb quivering, trying to resist the smell of the woman's blood still wafting from under the bed. For the longest time, the only sound in the cabin was the steady skritch-scratching of Zexion's pencil on the book pages.

One sound was missing, one sound that should have been there. Roxas was quite sure his heart _should _be pounding as if he'd run a marathon, ringing so loudly in his ears that it would drown out all other sounds. But he didn't hear it. He heard nothing, nothing but silence, nothing but the scratching of Zexion's pencil, as if trying in a pathetic attempt to make up for the sound that should havebeen thump-thumping throughout the entire room.

But of course it wasn't. Why _should _Roxas's heart be beating, when he technically wasn't even alive anymore...?

* * *

The air was cold--no, more than cold. Icy, lashing against Roxas's skin like a hundred frozen knives. He winced, raising his arms to keep the wind out of his eyes; though he wasn't really feeling the cold. The wind, sharp against his skin, bothered him more than the cold he barely felt.

If Zexion was bothered by the wind too, he didn't give any sign of it. He simply kept stalking through the streets, head down, his shoplifted coat billowing around him. Roxas had no idea where Zexion was going, but didn't ask--he knew he probably was going to get a facetious answer, if any. So all Roxas could do was follow Zexion through the narrow streets of the town they had landed in, trying to ignore the wind and the odd stares of passersby wondering why the two pale young men weren't dressed heavily enough for the cold.

Roxas didn't even know where they were. It seemed the ship, after a week-long journey, had landed in a small port town...somewhere. There was snow in the streets, and the buildings were squat and quaint-looking. Everyone that was out seemed to be swaddled in heavy layers--a few people (old men, mostly) even in Inuit-style furs. Roxas couldn't help but stare. He'd never seen anywhere quite like this place before.

They had to be "North". Where, exactly, Roxas didn't know. Wherever they were, though, the people didn't speak English, if the snatches of speech Roxas had heard here and there were anything to go by. He didn't know these people's language, so he chose to stay close to Zexion and hope for the incubus to translate for them if anyone talked to them.

After winding their way through mazes of dark, unpaved streets, Zexion finally stopped in front of a building that seemed no different from any of the others they'd passed by. Roxas, unprepared for the stop, bumped into Zexion and almost fell over, but Zexion held out an arm to keep him from falling. Rather than thank Zexion, though, Roxas threw Zexion's arm off of him the instant he'd steadied--he did _not _want the vampire touching him more often than he had to. Zexion cast Roxas a withering glance, but turned back to the building, lifting an arm and knocking once, twice, on the door.

At first, no one answered. Zexion stood where he was, a faint annoyed look on his face, before knocking on the door again. This time, the answer was near instantaneous--the door was flung open the moment Zexion knocked, and he stumbled back, startled. Roxas resisted the sudden urge to laugh.

A dark-haired young woman stood at the door, staring wide-eyed at Zexion and Roxas. Zexion folded his arms, surveying her dispassionately, and she turned around and called something in a foreign language inside. A rustling sound, and then someone else approached--a man, a thin, balding man with watery gray eyes.

"My lord," he said--in English--lowering his head in a deferent bow to Zexion.

"Do not bow down to me," said Zexion, his voice cold. "I have come here to speak with the Northern Coven."

"And which coven are you from, my lord?" said the man. Though he was no longer bowing, he still kept his eyes cast down, away from Zexion's face.

"That is irrelevant. I have friends in the Northern Coven, and I wish to speak with them." Zexion lowered his voice, his words acquiring a frigid edge. Roxas shivered--it suddenly felt like the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I really must know--"

"Silence. Refer me to...ah...'Vexen' and 'Lexaeus'. They know me, and they will vouch for me. What are you waiting for? _Go!" _Zexion's voice acquired the sharpness of an order, and he took a threatening step closer to the man. The trembling man didn't hesitate to obey--he dashed back inside, the girl closely following, slamming the door behind him.

"Er...I think that was a rejection..." said Roxas quietly. "And what are you talking about anyway? The 'Northern Coven'? Vexen--Lexaeus--"

"Friends," said Zexion, not meeting Roxas's gaze. "I've known them for a long time. They will help me."

"Help you _what!" _cried Roxas, frustrated, his anger finally boiling over. He'd followed Zexion around everywhere, had taken a ship North, had basically done everything Zexion had told him--and he _still _had no idea _why! _Why the hell had Zexion bothered coming all the way North? Why was he talking to these people? _What the hell was going on? _"I have _no _idea what you're doing and you--"

"Hmm, you're not really a good servant," said Zexion, fixing Roxas with a bored look. "I didn't think you would scream so much."

"Yeah? Well, I've got _plenty _of reason to 'scream'--" began Roxas, raising his voice even as Zexion lowered his, ignoring the weird stares people in the streets were starting to give him. Before Roxas could finish, however, the door swung open again.

"Very well then...come in, my lord," said the balding man, though the look he cast Zexion was a somewhat disgruntled one. "And...er...your servant too..."

Zexion bumped into the man as he entered, though perhaps that was intentional. The man slammed against the doorframe, now looking definitely affronted--though he couldn't do anything about it. Roxas followed after Zexion, still confused.

The room inside was cramped, but comfortable enough; judging by the decorations on the walls, the threadbare couches, and the photographs propped on beaten and scratched tables, it was a personal home. Roxas wondered what they were doing in here, just invading other peoples' houses like this...but Zexion didn't seem interested in the surroundings. He kept heading back, weaving through rooms until he reached what appeared to be a study, with heavy bookshelves lining the walls and books strewn over a beaten old desk.

Zexion didn't pause to even glance around the study, however. He just strode straight to the opposite wall--and shoved the bookshelf aside.

Roxas almost choked. It was just so--well, it was like something from a _spy movie. _Bookshelves that moved aside, to reveal gaping and cavernous spaces leading...who knew where. He could only stare, goggling, at the open space where the bookshelf had previously been...

"Follow." Zexion's voice issued in a sharp order that echoed somewhat, and Roxas realized that the vampire had already entered the space and was moving...down?

Well, he couldn't fight against the order, and he himself was curious to find out what was down there. Roxas followed without protest, to find that the space opened into a stone stairway. Zexion had already descended about halfway down, barely visible in the gloom. Roxas raced to catch up with Zexion, taking the steps two at a time. The incubus didn't once stop to allow Roxas to catch up, walking ahead, step by step, with his head down and his hands in his coat pockets, focused on seemingly nothing but his destination.

Wherever the hell _that _was... They were descending, definitely, heading deeper and deeper underground with each step. The air around them had acquired a definite sharp chill, and Roxas supposed that had be still been--if he was still--if he wasn't _this_--he would be half-frozen from cold already. As it was, though, he barely felt the icy cold. It was dark, too dark for normal eyes to see, but in his current...condition...the surroundings appeared to him as bright as they would on a moonlit night. For the longest time, he descended in silence by Zexion's side, the only sound the steady ringing of their steps on the stone.

As they descended further, Roxas began to become more aware of--the _scents. _A damp, earthy scent, as well as a cold, sharp, and wild scent that had been pervading Roxas's senses ever since their boat had landed--a scent that unmistakably spoke of _North. _But further, deeper in, more scents rose from the darkness to caress Roxas's heightened sense of smell...a clean and cold scent of ice and frost, and...

Roxas took an alarmed step backwards, reeling in shock. A scent at once horribly alien and intimately familiar had drifted with a sudden sharpness out of the darkness. It was a dark scent, dark and wild and reeking of blood, death, things best kept hidden at the corners of awareness...of every terror of night. Of shadows, of silence, of freezing ice and unfeeling earth, of pain and lamentation--

The scent of a vampire.

Two, to be precise, Roxas realized. He was surprised by how accurately he could now pin down the location of the two quickly approaching figure, just by scent alone. Bit by bit, too, after the initial shock of the discovery had worn off, he could begin to distinguish them. Both bore the heavy signature of blood and darkness, as every vampire did, but one seemed more sharp and clear--like ice--and the other heavier, earthier.

Zexion had noticed Roxas's reaction, and flashed the boy a quick, mirthless smirk. "So you've noticed them too. No need to be so startled. They aren't your enemies."

"I...ah..." said Roxas, his head still reeling though he didn't know why. Why _had _he reacted like that...? Well, of course he had--they were _vampires _he was smelling! Evil, undead creatures of the night...

And then, as the twin vampiric scents sharpened, became more pronounced than ever before, two figures stepped from the darkness and stopped before Roxas and Zexion.

Zexion was on them in a second, sliding across the space between him and the other two vampires with startling grace. Taking the hands of the larger one, he leaned up and whispered in a breathy, excited, voice, "Lexaeus!" And then, to the thinner vampire, not touching him but flashing him a smile at once pleased and teasing, "Vexen! A pleasure to see you both."

"What is the meaning of this, Ienzo?" snarled the vampire apparently named "Vexen". "You go missing for two months and then you show up with--"

"Shh." Zexion held a finger in front of him in an obvious silencing gesture. Then, his smirk acquiring a conspiratorial quality, "_Zexion, _if you please."

"Excuse me?" Vexen looked affronted, but then his gaze slipped over to Roxas, and an understanding look came over his face. "Very well then. _Zexion. _Now, will you explain just what is going on, or--"

"Not yet," interrupted Zexion, sounding strangely delighted at Vexen's fuming reaction. "I haven't made introductions, have I? Well, Roxas, these are two of my comrades from the Northern Coven. You may address them as 'Vexen'--" A sweeping gesture towards Vexen "--and 'Lexaeus'." A hint of a deferent bow in Lexaeus's direction. "Vexen, Lexaeus, this is Roxas. My newest servant."

"What?" A vein was twitching on Vexen's forehead. He was tall and thin, though not elegantly slim like Zexion--his thinness made him look angular, almost bony. Physically, he appeared far older than Zexion--perhaps in his early forties, Roxas guessed, although since he was a vampire he was probably much older. Like Zexion, he was deathly pale, his green eyes glinting like twin shards of ice in a harsh and lined face framed by long blonde hair.

"Zexion..." said the other vampire, Lexaeus, his voice quiet and rumbling in stark contrast to Vexen's higher-pitched and haughty tone. Lexaeus was truly the most massive person--vampire or human--Roxas had ever beheld, towering over all over three of them and seemingly composed of nothing but heavy muscle. He was as pale as Zexion and Vexen, but his pallor did not detract from his overall image of unbelievable strength. His hair was reddish, unkept; his eyes, a piercing blue.

Both vampires were dressed in identical long black cloaks, with ruffs of fur at the collar--though they really didn't need the fur to keep warm. They both fixed Zexion with serious looks, their expressions expectant, demanding answers. Although Vexen's was more demanding and Lexaeus's more expectant.

"He's only half-made, so he understands what's going on," said Zexion, patting Roxas quite hard on the head. Roxas felt his knees buckle, surprised by the sudden strength Zexion had put into the gesture. But mostly he was annoyed--how dare Zexion patronize him, treat him like a little child or worse, a _pet! _"The story behind his making is a long and complicated one and not one I wish to go in depth on. In fact, I'd prefer to spend as little time as possible here, seeing as I have business to conduct and places to go. That being said, I must ask of you both--will you lend me your full, unconditional support?"

The two elder vampires fixed Zexion with blank stares, both looking utterly flummoxed by his long, breathless speech. But only for a moment.

"_What?" _exploded Vexen, stepping forward and even shaking an enraged fist at Zexion, who gathered his coat about him as a damsel would her dress and took a distasteful step back. "Just _what _are you going on about, Ien--Zexion? Stepping in here with--with half-made servants, greeting us as if nothing's happened, and _then _asking us for help! I don't think so! Before _you _saunter in so cavalierly asking for our aid, why don't _you _tell _us _what you've been up to these past two months? I believe it's only _fair!"_

"Lexaeus..." Zexion ignoring Vexen completely, sighing and turning to Lexaeus and giving the large vampire a helpless look. "Please quiet him down."

Vexen only took more affront at this. "Do _not _act as if you have more authority than me, Ienzo! I am Even, of the most noble and ancient line of vampires the Visconti, and I will _not _be treated this way by a mere _incubus_--"

"Vexen!" This was Lexaeus, his voice harsh, ringing with authority. Vexen immediately cut off the middle of his indignant rant, turning away and folding his arms and scowling at the opposite wall. Zexion simply sighed, raising his finger to his temple and twirling it.

Lexaeus noticed the gesture and turned to Zexion now. When he spoke, his voice was calm but also chiding. "Zexion, Vexen has a point. I believe we deserve some answers."

"Can't this wait?" said Zexion, his tone scathing, his expression darkening. It was his turn to fold his arms, and fix Lexaeus with a piercing glare. "I am short on time. _Very _short on time, as a matter of fact. I need to move as quickly as possible. I'd appreciate it if you two were more of a help than a hindrance."

By now, Roxas was completely lost. Just _what _was Zexion talking about? What was going on? What was it that Vexen had called him--"Ienzo"--but why? Who were these vampires, how did Zexion know them, why did he think they were going to help him--? Roxas's head was swirling with so many questions he was surprised it didn't burst. He almost wanted to speak, wanted to demand answers from Zexion just as Vexen and Lexaeus were doing--such as what Zexion was in such a hurry to do--but kept silent, sensing it wouldn't be a good time to speak...and besides, he had to admit he was somewhat intimidated in the presence of three pureblood vampires.

"What is it you need to do?" cried Vexen, advancing towards Zexion even as Zexion steadily backed off, keeping at least a yard's distance between himself and the older vampire. "Explain, Zexion! You do _not _simply charge in on the Northern Coven one day and demand us to help you without even telling us what you need us for!"

"I don't have time to tell you!" For the first time, Zexion raised his voice, real anger clouding his countenance. Both Roxas and Vexen took a step back in surprise--Roxas surprised at the intensity of Zexion's anger. Whatever it was that Zexion wanted to do...he wanted to do it _badly._

"Don't raise your voice to me, Ienzo!" Vexen's voice was sharp, lashing at Zexion like an icy blizzard.

"I'll do whatever I like, Even, and it isn't in your place to question me!"

"A_hem, _but I do believe it _is! _You are but an incubus, and as a higher-ranked vampire than _you _I therefore _command _you to--"

"Enough." Lexaeus, in contrast to his comrades, had not shouted--but the low, growling tone of his voice, dripping in disapproval, was enough to stop the other two vampires mid-argument. Zexion and Vexen, who had been leaning close to each other, jabbing accusing fingers at the other's chest, leaped back immediately, turning to cast sullen looks at Lexaeus. Roxas almost laughed from the bizarre comedy of the situation--it was almost like Vexen and Zexion were two schoolchildren who'd been stopped mid-fight by a teacher.

But, of course, there wasn't anything funny about the situation at all, so Roxas choked his laugh back.

"Lexaeus--" began Zexion, at the same time Vexen snapped, "Aeleus--"

They both fell silent, though, when Lexaeus raised a great hand in an obvious gesture for them to quiet down. "Zexion. Tell us what it is you need. Only then will we be able to decide whether or not to give our aid to you."

"By the way, I _believe _we ought to know what he's been up to these past two months--" said Vexen loudly, shooting Lexaeus an expectant, sidelong look.

"Silence, Vexen. If Zexion does not wish to tell us, then he does not have to." Lexaeus's voice was calm as always, but Vexen did not handle the dismissal well, his face twisting into an ugly affronted expression and his hands balling into fists. "Now, Zexion..."

"Agree to help me." Although a trace of the incubus's old silkiness had slipped back into his voice, it was mitigated by the sullen quality of his tone; almost like a child denied what it wanted. "Agree to help me first, and then I will tell you."

"No." Lexaeus's dismissal was gentle, though, not harsh like Vexen's. "We cannot do that, Zexion."

"Yes, you can. All I am asking is for you to pledge a little bit--the slightest--of your resources and attention--to my cause," said Zexion, his voice calm, but the expression he was giving Lexaeus was almost...almost _plaintive. _By now, Roxas's curiosity was burning--just _what _could have aroused Zexion's passions so?

"I cannot do that until I know what your cause is." Again, Lexaeus spoke gently to Zexion, his tone almost...paternal. There was something familiar about his tone, almost painfully so...Roxas grit his teeth when he felt his heart pang, in remembrance of a red-haired vampire slayer who had often taken that same tone with him...

"Rrghh..." For the first time since Roxas had met Zexion, Zexion emitted a sound that could only be described as a growl. He tightened his hands into fists and glared back and forth between Vexen and Lexaeus, as if searching for an avenue out of his bind, but finding none, he turned back to Lexaeus. None of the anger had left his face, but he had started shaking now--the very slightest of tremors that was barely perceptible, yet was there.

"Nhh...very well, then." Zexion's slender shoulders shrugged in seeming defeat, and he took in a deep, shuddering breath before speaking again. "Very well. I shall tell you."

"Yes, pray tell us what could make you drop off the face of the earth for two months--" began Vexen, his voice haughty and delighted in a superior manner. Lexaeus threw Vexen a sharp look, however, and Vexen wisened up and assumed a sober expression.

"I was...I mean...that is to say..." Zexion paused, struggling for words before continuing in a calmer tone--though his voice held a faint edge of trembling anyhow. "I wish to search for a vampire slayer."

_A vampire slayer? _Roxas's first thought was--was smirking green eyes, a mocking smile, a man who had rescued Roxas and later praised his fighting abilities, had forgiven him even as he bled all over the carpet--but that couldn't be what Zexion meant. Axel was dead, why search for him, but--

But then, with a sudden flash, Roxas realized.

"Who? A vampire slayer? What?" cried Vexen, goggle-eyed, a look of very real--and rather stupid--surprise on his usually haughty face. "There's a vampire slayer you would like us to eliminate?"

"Why not go then to the Superior?" said Lexaeus, his rumbling voice pensive. "He would be able to devote more resources to hunting down a slayer, if that is what you want..."

"No!" Zexion sighed and shook his head. "No! That's not what I meant. I don't want you to kill this vampire slayer. He has not--he has not wronged me in any way. He is a human slayer. He doesn't--he doesn't _understand." _For some reason, Zexion shot Roxas a knowing look at the last words, which Roxas returned with a confused stare. _Understand? Understand what?_

"A _human _slayer?" The haughtiness returned tenfold to Vexen's voice, as if he was trying to make up for his previous lapse. "Why would you want us to search for a human slayer?"

"I knew it," said Zexion, closing his eyes and lowering his head. "That's why I wanted you to pledge your support beforehand. I knew you would refuse."

"Zexion..." Lexaeus took a step closer to Zexion, looking concerned. "We are not refusing you. This is just...this is rather surprising, that is all. I do not understand why you would..."

"It is a long story, and not one that I wish to recount." Zexion's voice was cold, but there was no hiding the pained edge behind the sharp words. "Please, Lexaeus...if you are truly my friend..."

"Don't play that card, Ienzo!" snarled Vexen, drawing himself up haughtily. "Not even _you _could sink that low--"

Zexion, however, went on as if Vexen hadn't even spoken. "If you are my friend...Lexaeus...I ask you but this: _Help me. _Help me find this slayer. I...there are...it is a complicated story, but I did some things wrong--horribly wrong--and I must right my mistakes. That's why I'm asking for your help. Please..."

Then, to Roxas's shock, Zexion took both of Lexaeus's larger, powerful hands in his own much slimmer ones, and sank into a low bow on one knee before the massive vampire. He remained in that position, propped on his knee, head lowered, silent, still clutching Lexaeus's hands, for what felt like an eternity to Roxas, but could not have been more than a few minutes. All fell silent in the cavern--there was not even the sound of breathing or heartbeats to break the tense, icy, silence.

Finally, after a momentous eternity, Lexaeus spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the cavern, echoing off the ice-coated stone walls, repeating the same words over and over again as if a chorus of bass voices was speaking his reply along with him:

"Stand, Zexion. We...we will help you."

* * *

And so there you have it. Not much to say on this chapter...

Except a fairly long update, due to the trip and to the fact that I have yet to finish the thirteenth chapter. Never fret, I'm about halfway through. So...anyway, here's the preview for chapter twelve, "Coven":

_Unbidden, a memory arose in Demyx's mind, a memory he fought against with all his heart and soul and his entire being. He did not want to remember--did not want to remember a slate-haired boy, a boy with dark eyes and a young face belying years of knowledge and torment...a boy who cast him bitter smiles and harsh judgment...a boy who'd stared in bewilderment as Demyx declared his feelings...a beautiful boy, a pale boy, a boy like a broken butterfly..._

Yeah! Dem-Dem shows up again! Bet you all missed him, after, like...a three-chapter absense.

Anyway, read and don't forget to send reviews! More updates will come quicker (after the trip) because school's finally let out for me! So I get two weeks...kinda...free...in between studying for the SAT and AcaDeca, that is. =/


	12. Coven

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_12. Coven_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Here's a (late) Christmas present for all you faithful readers--chapter twelve of _Tainted But Beautiful! _I'm really happy for this, because this is the farthest I've ever gotten on a chapter fic (_The Captive _folded after eleven, and nothing else has even come close). I've also written the thirteenth chapter, but not the fourteenth, so except a rather slow update (sorry!).

This chapter contains some Zexion backstory, and Saix shows up here. I don't like him that much either, so my characterization of him is probably rather wonky. Sigh. But hey, if the preview for the last chapter hadn't clued you in, Demyx shows up again! And I know you're all looking forward to that.

* * *

"Honestly, Ienzo, you ought to take better care of yourself."

Zexion merely fixed Vexen with a dark glower, though he pulled back and hissed when Vexen, none-too-gently, started daubing antiseptic onto the injuries on Zexion's arm. "Stop that, dammit!"

"Do you want to heal or not?" said Vexen, still taking that haughty "doctor-knows-best" tone, arms akimbo. "If you won't let me inspect your injuries, you won't be able to heal properly. Now--let me see again."

"For some reason, you're speaking as if it's my fault I was injured," said Zexion coldly, though he extended his arm to Vexen again, allowing the older vampire to apply liberal amounts of stinging antiseptic to his multiple cuts and scrapes.

"Well, isn't it? In the past you've never cared at all about your physical well-being, so I assumed--"

"That's why it's dangerous to assume," said Zexion with a sigh, turning away from Vexen and gritting his teeth to keep from hissing in pain. Vexen was now bandaging a particularly deep gash on his arm, drawing the bandage tight with a little more gusto than was necessary. Zexion tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation of Vexen's cold fingers on his skin--he knew that the elder vampire knew what was he doing, and was the only person present who both cared enough and had the expertise to heal Zexion, but Zexion had never quite gotten used to the cold, practiced motions of Vexen's hands. Just the way his fingers lingered a tad longer than necessary...in the more-than-doctorly tenderness they used to press against his skin...

It should be expected, and a part of Zexion was surprised that Vexen hadn't acted more solidly on his intentions. As an incubus, Zexion should be too used to other, higher-ranked vampires viewing him..._that_ way...and he shouldn't begrudge their advances. He should _welcome _them.

But Zexion had never been a typical incubus, and he had long made that fact known to Vexen. And Vexen, for the most part, respected that and never tried to push Zexion beyond what Zexion wanted. "For the most part" being the operative words.

"There," said Vexen, finishing with the bandage--but he had plenty more to apply, as the thick roll of bandages in his other hand testified. "Truth be told, though, you've never returned from a mission with so many injuries before. Although I wonder just what sort of mission it was, if it took you two months..."

"I do not wish to speak of it," said Zexion, his voice as sharp and cutting as possible. Then, sighing again, he glanced towards the door of Vexen's chambers, not bothering to hide his exasperation. "In fact, if I had my way I would not even be here. We're wasting time, every second--"

"Ienzo, this is a major decision you're asking us to make." Some of the haughtiness had slipped out of Vexen's voice--to be replaced by a coaxing, near-patronizing tone that was almost as bad. "To aid you in search of a human slayer...a human slayer whom you want to return _alive."_

"Yes, thank you for being able to state what I have already told you at least ten times already," snapped Zexion, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Vexen looked affronted at first, almost as if Zexion had hit him, but he rearranged his expression back into that doting, patronizing expression--_don't get angry, it's the way he's always spoken to incubi, be glad that he already respects you this much_--and spoke calmly. "Don't be so uppity, Ienzo. It doesn't suit you well. And besides, you know the rules of the coven. A major decision such as this requires the agreement of the entire coven."

"They've already been deliberating for at least an hour," complained Zexion, intensifying his efforts to burn a hole in the door with his glare. "How much longer could it take? Aeleus should have already been able to convince them all--"

"On something like _this?" _Vexen emitted a derisive snort. "Don't delude yourself, Ienzo. And I do not see why you're in such a hurry, myself."

"My reasons are mine alone," replied Zexion, his retort acid.

Vexen looked ready to shoot back an equally acid retort, but seemed to have bitten back any protest; when he spoke, his voice was level, but tinged with a definite pall of exasperation. "Be grateful that we are already helping you as much as we are, Ienzo. At the very least, we're seriously considering your outlandish request. Usually--"

"Yes, usually you would send me on my merry way--perhaps with a punishment or two--and tell the little incubus to stop bothering the _important _people with his silly concerns," said Zexion with a low snarl, trying unsuccessfully to yank his arm out of Vexen's grip again. "I know that. That is what the Superior would do to me if I ever came to him with this request. That's why I came to you. I knew that you'd at least give me the time of day."

"More time than I ought to have," grumbled Vexen, sounding slightly disgruntled. "Ienzo, quite seriously, why don't you tell me what you've been doing these past two months? The deliberations will not end for quite some time--" Zexion growled in discontent at that "--so for as long as you're here, you might as well just explain."

"I don't want to." Zexion's answer was instanteous, dispassionately stated. He turned back to Vexen, glaring at the older vampire, a fierce challenge burning in his eyes. "No matter what you do or say. I won't tell you."

"You're starting to make me think that you have done something terrible," said Vexen, matching Zexion's glare with an exasperated look. "No, really, I _am _intrigued. Half-making a child, for one...why did you do that?"

"Did you not just hear what I said?" snapped Zexion. "I refuse to tell you."

"Ienzo..." Vexen's tone was chiding, irritated. Then, switching tones, he lifted Zexion's arm to inspect it better, ignoring Zexion's annoyed snarl. "What is _this? _Silver burns..."

"Again, you display a remakable propensity for stating the obvious," said Zexion dryly, turning away from Vexen again. But beneath his sarcasm, he was starting to feel a little worried...the dark red burns around his wrists had, unlike the rest of his injuries, not slowly faded as the days passed and he became more healthy. The pain hadn't gone away entirely, either...

He'd spent nearly two months in those silver chains. Who knew what they'd done to his body?

"These are very...severe...injuries," said Vexen, frowning, his brown furrowing as he held Zexion's wrist in his cold fingers, examining the dark burn... "I can try, but...I don't believe these will heal completely. What _happened _to you?"

"I'm not telling." Zexion chanted the words in a sing-song tone, hiding his apprehension behind a cavalier veneer. So that was it...he couldn't escape Axel without any signs of his imprisonment. Always, now, forever until the rest of eternity, or whenever Zexion's existence drew to an end...he'd bear the dark, angry burns on his wrists, always reminding him of the taunting, green-eyed slayer...

"Not telling! Ienzo, were you captured by a slayer--"

"Silence, Even," snapped Zexion, infusing his words with an extra dose of cold command. He lifted his eyes to meet Vexen's, fixing the elder vampire with as cold a glare as he could muster. "I will not tell you, and I trust you will not inquire further."

"Ienzo, what--what are you--" sputtered Vexen, his indignity rendering him incoherent--but only for a moment. He gathered himself soon enough, sighing and running his hands through his hair in an unmistakable expasperated gesture. "Sometimes, Ienzo, I have to wonder why I am even friends with you in the first place."

Zexion, for his part, had to admit he wondered the same thing.

* * *

_He could still remember his first meeting with Vexen. It had been in the vast underground library in the Northern Coven--though most everything in the Northern Coven was underground. Zexion couldn't remember exactly why he had fled to the library in the first place, but suspected one reason above all--the other vampires._

_The other incubi and succubi, to be precise. To say that he didn't enjoy their company was an understatement. He _hated _other incubi and succubi. He knew it was irrational, because they were his kind, his rank, exactly like him--_

_But they _weren't. _The others were simple fools, empty-heads whose minds were focused on one thing and one thing only. Not that Zexion _didn't _enjoy that "one thing" also, but it wasn't the _only _thing that defined his life, thank goodness. The others loved to congregate in large, chattering groups, where they would natter-natter-natter all day long about their various "conquests" during the night, about their favorite victims, about pretty boys and girls and all other sorts of vapid empty-head things. The succubi tended to gather in conspiratorial circles and giggle in high-pitched voices, while the incubi would lean against the walls and flex and brag to one another. The worst thing that could happen was when a group of incubi and a group of succubi would encounter one another. Then there would be hair-tossing and eyelash-batting from the succubi, and more strenuous flexing and posing from the incubi._

_It was enough to make Zexion sick. Whenever he skulked behind a wall, watching the travails of his supposed "brethren", he had to wonder--was he _really _one of them?_

_The others knew that he was different, just as much as he did. They couldn't comprehend it, with their silly brainless heads, so they settled for ostracizing him, mocking him incessantly. Laughing whenever they passed by him reading, shutting him down with harsh laughter whenever he asked too many questions. They had all sorts of unpleasant nicknames for him. "Impotent Ienzo" was their favorite, although Zexion wasn't really impotent; he just didn't consider _that _the defining feature of his life._

_It should be. He knew that. It should, but it wasn't. He didn't care for sex beyond as a means of survival. He _would _creep into humans' windows at night, seduce them and give them nightmares and feed from them, but he didn't derive the same animalistic enjoyment from it the other incubi did. What he _did _enjoy, if he thought about it, wasn't the act itself but the feeling of superiority, of _control, _that came with manipulating his victims..._

_So he was unusual. It didn't bother him. Sometimes, certainly, he wondered _why _he wasn't normal, but most of the time he viewed his supposed "brethren" with scorn and felt a secret relief that he _wasn't _an empty-head like they all were._

_The library had been an accident. He'd ducked in there for a safe refuge from the other incubi--not that they'd been tormenting him worse than before, but he'd just become fed up with their mocking insults and brainless chatter. So he'd wandered through the halls of the coven headquarters and he'd found...the library._

_Zexion knew libraries. He'd seen many before--but never any like this. Everywhere, as far as he could see, _books. _Towers and towers of dusty, leather-bound volumes lined up in neat rows in shelves that seemed to soar to the very heavens themselves. He had no idea that the coven had even _had _a place like this, so vast and empty, to the point where it was hard to believe he was still underground._

_Zexion slipped silently through the library, clinging to the shadows at first--he had to admit he was somewhat nervous. If he'd never even heard of this place before, it was obvious he wasn't welcome...but his curiosity won out, and he emerged from the shadows to face a bookshelf, and, taking a deep breath (why was he so nervous?), he plucked a book from the shelf._

_He stood, expectantly, waiting for something to happen--a trap to spring up, perhaps. There was still that strong feeling that he didn't belong here...but nothing happened, and Zexion relaxed with a sigh and curled up beside the shelf, the book perched in its lap, and began to peruse its pages. It was a heavy, leather-bound volume, its pages yellowed and fading, yet from the showers of dust that burst forth when he opened its covers it was plain the book had rarely been read before. He soon became absorbed in it, in the tiny dark print running in rows across and columns down the pages...losing all sense of time, losing everything but the words floating before his eyes, speaking to him loud and clear even after centuries--_

_If there was ever a time when Zexion felt like he truly belonged somewhere...felt that he was truly _content_...it was when he was reading. Nothing, not even the night visits, could compare with the enthralling spell a good book could weave..._

_He'd lost all track of time as he'd read--it might have been minutes, or hours, or even days; he couldn't tell. And he didn't care. He was just comfortable, content, curled up with a book and lost in his own universe where he was no longer the incubus Zexion, "Impotent Ienzo", but--but someone else, someone from a past life, a naive and elegant boy who had loved his family library above all else--_

_And then a voice, haughty and irritated, broke through the silence and destroyed the sanctity of his reading. "Just what do you think you're doing here?"_

_"Ah!" Zexion slammed the book shut with a resounding bang, leaping up and pressing his back to the bookshelf--trying to present the perfect picture of deference. Above him loomed another vampire, a tall, thin, angular vampire with long blonde hair and sharp green eyes that were currently smoldering in rage. An accusing finger was outstretched, pointing straight at Zexion's chest, and fury distorted the vampire's features._

_"Honestly, you're all like _pests!" _he raged, his voice shaking in righteous idignity. "No matter where I go, there's _always _at least one of you annoying, nattering little vermin scampering around for the express purpose of _irritating _me, it seems! I don't know what the Superior's thinking, sending all you pests to the North...but I'll have you know I won't stand for it! I won't! Not any longer. Out! _Out! _Out of my library, little pest, and do _not _try your tricks on me or I will personally string you by the ankles from the ceiling--with silver chains--and turn you out in the sunlight. OUT!!!"_

_"Sir--I'm sorry, sir--forgive me, please, I--I didn't know--I didn't know this library was yours, sir, I'm very sorry, I won't come back, I don't know what I was doing, sir, I just saw this book and I became intrigued and I suppose I--I lost track of time--forgive me, sir--" stammered Zexion in one quick breath as the blonde vampire continued raging. He knew the vampire was ordering him out, but he couldn't move--he could only press his back farther into the shelf, feeling the cold stone acutely beneath his shirt, and hug the book even closer to his chest._

_"All of you standing around blocking the halls jibbering and jabbering the entire day away!" continued the vampire, throwing his hands up and seemingly howling to the sky--he didn't seem to be paying any attention to Zexion at all. "Don't you realize that _some _people have places to go? And _then _whenever anyone sensible--like me--tries to reprimand you all you do is bat your eyelashes or creep up to me and touch me! Well, I'll have you know that won't work, not on me, I, Even of the Visconti! I see all through your ridiculous little tricks, nasty little incubus--! Don't you respect anything? Don't you respect even my private sanctuary! Coming in here because you were intrigued by a book...honestly..."_

_But abruptly, as he spoke, the vampire's expression changed. The fury slipped from his face like a wave dragging debris back into the ocean, and his eyes widened--became almost _shocked. _Zexion remained where he was, still obstinately clinging to the book, wondering what was going to happen to him now..._

_When the vampire turned back to face Zexion, however, he didn't continue his tirade. He instead said, his expression sharp, fixing his eyes on the book in Zexion's arms, "You were reading that?"_

_What kind of question was that...? Zexion, however, answered as deferently as was expected of one of his station. "Yes, sir. I was."_

_"Really?" A bit of his old scorn had slipped back into the vampire's manner, and he drew himself up haughtily. "A likely story. Do you even _understand _what you were reading?"_

_Zexion hissed inside at the slight, but out loud, he said, still deferently, "Yes, sir."_

_"I should think so," snorted the vampire, a definite derisive note to his voice now. "Then if you really _do, _tell me what it was you just read."_

_"Very well, sir." Zexion drew himself up to his full height--which wasn't much, but it felt better to him than just cowering against the shelf. "The book is an account of vampire history from the Renaissance to the end of the Napoleonic Wars, by one C. Armin Ilander. In it--at the very least, the selection I read--he states that the principal reason for the fall of the traditional, feudal, family-based vampiric structure was the folly of the vampire families themselves. Poor leadership by the family patriarchs, he claims, as well as interfamilial squabbles, helped undermine the strength and standing of the major families. In addition, the common practice of cousin marriage and other forms of inbreeding were linking the family bloodlines together dangerously, and it became more difficult for many to produce viable heirs--at least according to Mr. Ilander."_

_"Really, hmm?" A pensive frown appeared on the blonde vampire's face, although the slight skeptical light in his eyes had yet to leave. "But _any _fool--an incubus included, I'd warrant--could simply quote like a parrot. That's no sign of understanding."_

_"Perhaps not, sir," said Zexion lightly, "but I don't happen to agree entirely with Mr. Ilander's conclusion."_

_"Oh?" Despite himself, the vampire looked intrigued, his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline. "And how's that, little incubus? Pray tell."_

_"Mr. Ilander presents an admirable case, sir, when he argues that the families' flaws were a major factor for the end of the feudal system. But while internal difficulties were certainly a component of the fall of the major families, he fails to take in account external influences as well. Such as the ending of the traditional feudal structure in much of Europe at the time, as well as the rise of Enlightenment thinking leading to many non-familial purebloods to question the existing system. The advent of the Industrial Revolution, and the revolutions in America and France, further undermined the power of the families. Obviously, sir, Mr. Ilander's history is hardly objective; you must remember it was commissioned by the leader of the Franco-Spanish Coven specifically to discredit the families still clinging on the last vestiges of power they still had."_

_His speech finished, Zexion smiled lightly at the astonished blonde vampire and tapped the cover of the book, once, twice._

_"Well...ahh...that does...well...you do have a point," said the vampire when he'd regained his voice. "Both external and internal factors did contribute to the fall of the major families...but tell me, how did you _know _all of that?"_

_He was suddenly surveying Zexion sharply, as if he'd never seen the incubus clearly before and was trying to determine Zexion's character from intense scrutiny. Zexion already had an answer on hand, however. _

_"I read, sir. Quite a bit. That's why I...when I entered this library, I became...well." He coughed, a little nervously. "I'm very sorry, sir. I didn't mean to invade on your personal space. I won't come back again..."_

_He turned, making to leave--but the blonde vampire threw his arm out to block Zexion's path. Zexion stared up at the vampire, nervous now. No doubt he was going to be punished, even after apologizing..._

_"You really are an incubus?" The vampire's voice was astonished, disbelieving, and he seemed to be struggling to reconcile many warring thoughts as his eyes swept Zexion up and down. "Really...?"  
_

_"Yes, sir," said Zexion with a sigh. It took all of his effort to prevent himself from adding, "Unfortunately"._

_"But you...you're so very..." The vampire paused to collect his thoughts, before continuing. "No. You are...you can't be anything else. But you...you read that...and understood it...and even..." Again, the disbelieving look came over his face._

_"Sir, I understand if you're confused. I've never...I've never been quite the typical incubus." Zexion couldn't help but grimace a little when he thought about that--_himself _as a typical incubus? Thank everything there was that he wasn't. "In fact, I don't particularly enjoy the company of other incubi and succubi. They're all...they're all such mindless, foolish, vapid...vapid..._pests."

_A little smile flashed across the elder vampire's face--not long enough to be a real one, but enough that Zexion noticed. He straightened up, feeling heartened. "Yes. That's very right. I can see you're quite an...unusual...young man. What is your name?"_

_"Ienzo, sir." It took Zexion a moment to reply--he wasn't quite sure how at first, because he'd _never _been spoken to like that by a superior vampire before. It was always, "Hey you!" or "Out of the way!" or "Little incubus, please do this or that..." or "Let's get it on, baby." Never...never had he been addressed as an equal before._

_"My name is Even. A pleasure to meet you, Ienzo," said Vexen, and, to Zexion's shock, he extended his hand. The intent behind the gesture was clear--and it astonished Zexion. Shaking hands with a superior vampire...it was almost too much to wrap his mind around._

_But he remembered politeness, and he returned the gesture, lifting his hand and grasping Vexen's. They shook solemnly, Zexion vaguely aware of how much stronger Vexen's grip was than his own, and when they broke apart Vexen was smiling at him again--not a patronizing smile, but a smile that was almost...a smile like a friend would give to another. A smile for an _equal.

_"You're obviously a very intelligent young man," said Vexen, still smiling. "You have talents, and energies...energies I believe would be wasted on simply--well, the duties of one of your station. How, then, would you like to be my assistant...Ienzo?"_

_"Really...?" Zexion stared in surprise at Vexen, and he was quite sure if he was human his heart would be pounding like he'd just run a marathon. Somehow...something about the way Vexen had said the word "assistant" implied more than just "sexual partner". "But sir, I'm only--I mean--I don't know if it would be..."_

_"Don't be so hesitant, Ienzo. Goodness knows the Superior's been heaping on me more lab work than I could handle, and I need someone besides Aeleus--someone quick and young and nimble; not to disparage his intelligence, but Aeleus doesn't move quite fast enough for my liking--to help me handle my work load. So, Ienzo? What do you say?"_

_This time, Zexion didn't hesitate. He had made up his mind. Finally--_finally_--he was being taken seriously by a higher-ranked vampire. He no longer had to spend his days with the other succubi and incubi, with the empty-heads, with the idiots and vapid fools. He could spend time with people of his same intellectual ability, people who could challenge him, make him feel _worth _something..._

_So, it was with the firmest of convictions that he straightened up, looked Vexen in the eye, and said, "Of course, Even. I would love to be your assistant."_

* * *

That was how it had all started, approximately twenty years ago, one afternoon in a library in the North. And so far, the friendship between Zexion and Vexen--and Lexaeus as well--was still going strong.

Occasionally, Zexion thought, gnashing his teeth as he exited Vexen's chambers fully-bandaged and most of his injuries treated, to his detriment.

* * *

Demyx couldn't see anything at first. Nothing but a deep darkness, a darkness that felt infinite, vast, endless--yet comforting as well, in the way it softly swaddled his body, pressed gently down on his eyes...it wasn't trying to hurt him. It was a nice darkness, the kind of darkness rarely experienced outside of the mother's womb.

He wanted to curl up in the darkness longer, to just let his body drift who-knows-where away with the dull nothingness, the comfort of not having to do anything, of not knowing anything...he vaguely remembered bad things had happened, sometime..._somewhere_...but couldn't remmeber exactly what those things were, and when they'd happened. It had been windy, he was sure, and people had been screaming...

But he couldn't remember anything else and he didn't want to. Not when it was so comfortable in his dark cocoon, his safe sanctuary. He just wanted to stay here forever...

But all good things had to come to an end, and so Demyx's warm contentness vanished the instant a voice, low and feral, yet with a trace of silkiness, shattered his silence and rang in his eardrums:

"Did you bring us a snack, Xaldin...?"

"Not a snack, per se," answered another voice--a deep voice, that nonetheless had a somewhat breathy quality, and a dark sadism brimming beneath...somehow, this voice sounded familiar to Demyx, but he didn't know why, he just couldn't place it... "More like a plaything."

"A plaything...? Was _that _the entire reason beyond your little excursion?" A faint hint of disapproval had slipped into the first voice. "The Superior will not approve."

"I hardly need his approval for this." In contrast to the first voice, the second voice grew bored, careless. "He doesn't even need to know that the human is here. I'll simply keep it locked securely in this room, and the Superior will be none the wiser."

What might have been a faint derisive snort issued in response. "Don't fool yourself, Xaldin. The Superior's senses are powerful, particularly when humans are concerned. He will find out, sooner or later--in fact, I'd venture to say he knows at the very moment, and hasn't spoken to you yet about it because he sees no point in dealing with someone like you."

"'Someone like you'? What are you trying to imply?"

"Someone, perhaps, who disappears from his coven for months at a time and returns with no conquests to his name and nothing of value, save a single pathetic human he does not even want to eat. Wouldn't you say that the coven has no need for people like that...?" A dangerous note entered the voice, displacing the trace of silkiness and intensifying the voice's feral quality.

The other voice didn't seem bothered by the increasing feralness to the first voice, and even issued a low, dry chuckle. "You're one to talk about what's best for the coven, not being a part of it yourself."

"More, I should think, than you are."

"Ridiculous." Suddenly, all of the sadistic good nature had vanished from the second voice, to be replaced by a dark disapproval. "The _Superior _might approve of your presence here...but the rest of us do not. The rest of us are still questioning the wisdom of this alliance, the wisdom of the Superior in allowing it to happen. You should know that the rest of us are waiting...waiting for every opportunity to break the terms of this pathetic sham of an alliance..."

"And destroy our Superior's dreams of our two races living in harmony? I think not." The first voice sounded barely perturbed at the other's anger--in fact, he sounded faintly bored, as if he'd already had this conversation before.

"The Superior can posture and spout off about our 'common traits' all that he wants. That doesn't mean that the rest of us will follow." A definite sneer had entered the second voice, as well as a challenge--as if eagerly awaiting the other's response.

By now, Demyx was beginning to slip out of his comfortable dark cocoon in more ways than just sound--slowly, he was beginning to become aware of other sensations. Of an aching throughout his entire body, but especially prominent in his back and the back of his neck...of being folded into uncomfortable right angles, as if he was sitting up...of tight restraints around his arms and chest...

He was waking up. He was emerging from the comforting, dream-like darkness and he did _not _like that. He struggled against his increasing alertness, struggled to return to that previous blissfully unaware state...but his struggles were futile. Already, he was becoming more sharply aware of his surroundings--the air cold against his face, his limbs aching and chafing beneath the tight ropes. He was clearly bound to a chair, but why, and where was he...?

But already, Demyx felt that he knew. He remembered. Creeping in at the edges of his consciousness was a memory of a smirking man with sadistically glinting purple eyes, a memory of being high above the ground as a violent wind buffeted his body, the memory of a voice, so torn by fury and anguish that it was barely recognizable, screaming his name over and over again...

_Oh, shit._

He remembered now. Everything. Fighting the vampires--Xaldin--Axel's rage--the wind, the heights, _everything_--

So where was he now? He couldn't remember much of what had happened after the battle. He remembered a violent whirlwind, and then a dark alleyway--and then Xaldin hitting him in the head and knocking him out. After that...it was all a blur. Or, more accurately, all darkness.

Now he was waking up, and he had no idea where he was--or even how much time had passed since that horrible battle. He was only aware of the horrible ache in his body, of a violent throbbing on the back of his head as well as lesser stings of pain from other, half-healed injuries on his body...and damn, those ropes were _not _gentle. They were digging into his skin, bound so tightly across his chest that he was surprised he could even draw breath.

He managed, though--and even managed to open his eyes. It took the longest time for him to crack his eyelids open, though, and admit in the light--because the darkness behind his tightly shut eyelids was the last darkness he had left. His last refuge. So he fought against it, fought against the tide of light and knowledge, fought to stay in the comforting dark, in his ignorance...

But it was all for nothing. Slowly, unwillingly, he opened his eyes anyway. At first, he could see nothing but darkness and a few hazy swirls of color that he managed to clear with a few strong blinks, and then his vision began to consolidate. Shapes appeared out of the gloom, matching voices that were still arguing...

"I will report this to the Superior, if you are unwilling to." This was the first, feral-but-silky voice. The speaker was someone Demyx had never seen before--a man with long, pale blue hair, a color that strangely reminded Demyx of a moonlit night. His eyes were sharp, piercing, golden, with an almost canine quality to them, and a large, x-shaped scar dominated his face. He moved with a strange, loping, wolf-like grace as he headed over to the door of the room--a small, dimly-lit place where Demyx could hardly distinguish details.

Whatever this man was...it was clear he wasn't human. Yet...he wasn't a vampire, either. Demyx might not have been an expert at discerning vampiric presences, but was quite certain the aura the blue-haired man left in the air--a mingled presence of something light, like moonflowers, and something thicker and heavier, like musk--was not a vampire's. But what--?

"You wouldn't." Xaldin's words were cold, derisive. And it could be none other than Xaldin--the other man, with his muscular build, long dreadlocks, and oddly graceful manner of moving was immediately familiar to Demyx. He had moved to the door to intercept the other mid-path.

All right, so here was Xaldin and there was...a stranger who couldn't be vampire but couldn't be human either. And here was Demyx, tied to a chair in a dark room, and he had no idea where and just _what _the hell was going on...

"The Superior has the right to know," said the stranger, his tone flat but pointed. "Now out of my way. Unless you wish a confrontation...?"

"A 'confrontation' would be a waste," snorted Xaldin. "Although I suppose it _would _provide the Superior reason to dissolve this doubly unholy alliance..."

"An alliance between our kinds could never be 'holy' in the first place," said the blue-haired stranger, an odd hint of amusement entering his voice.

"Of course. That's why I said 'doubly unholy'."

By now, Demyx had tired of just pulling against his bonds in a pathetic effort to wriggle free--it was clear that the person who'd tied him to the chair knew what he'd been doing, since the ropes held steady no matter how Demyx twisted and turned. Any more turning would send Demyx clattering to the floor...and while that _might _draw the two...not-humans'...attention to him, he had the nasty suspicion that neither would help him back up. And as lying on the floor tied to a chair was even more uncomfortable than sitting up straight tied to a chair...Demyx elected not to struggle further.

But he _had _to get these two--these two inhuman creatures' to notice him. He needed to know what was happening...and felt they should know that he was awake. So, gathering in a deep breath, he managed:

"Hey."

Demyx was alarmed the instant the word exited his mouth. His voice sounded..._horrible. _Not his at all. Cracked and broken and hoarse, barely able to rise about a tremulous whisper. Well, he supposed days of unconsciousness would do _something _to his voice, but it still alarmed him--as a singer, he prided his voice above almost all else.

Still, his pathetic croaking had gotten Xaldin and the stranger's attention. They instantly whirled around in his direction, bearing identical surprised expressions. Demyx almost wanted to laugh at the sudden comedy of the situation, but that was just stupid...there was _nothing _funny about the situation at all. He was bound and at the mercy of a particularly sadistic vampire and...and someone who wasn't human, and most likely dangerous.

"Ah," said the blue-haired man, sounding bored. "Your pet is awake, Xaldin."

"I'm aware of that, Saix," growled Xaldin, taking a step in Demyx's direction. _Saix. _So that was the stranger's name...but Demyx _still _had no idea what the stranger even was!

"Er...uh..." Demyx coughed and cleared his throat. When he continued, to his relief, his voice was stronger, though still wavery and weak. "Um...hey. Hi. Um, what's up..."

He felt like an idiot even before he was finished speaking. What the hell was he _doing, _greeting two very dangerous beings--_enemies_--like they were just nightclub buddies? That was wrong. Just supremely wrong, in every way possible...

"He doesn't seem to be a very intelligent pet," said Saix, still sounding bored and apathetic, but a little derisive as well.

"I prefer them unintelligent," replied Xaldin, his voice sharp.

_They just called you an idiot! _raged an indignant part of Demyx's mind. But the rest of him accepted the judgment and moved on. After having lived with Axel for some ten years, Demyx's skin had toughened considerably.

"So...um...where exactly _am _I?" He sputtered the first question that popped into his head. And truth be told--he _did _want to know. All he knew was that he was in a small room with no lighting at all, bound to a chair. The floors and walls seemed to be cold, hard concrete, and the air was near freezing...which was bad since Demyx seemed to have lost his coat. He didn't feel the cold, though. He didn't feel much anything besides a dull numbness from having been bent in the same position for...hours, maybe. Days, even.

Saix and Xaldin stared, owl-eyed, at him for a moment. Demyx's heart sank as he realized they probably wouldn't answer...that they'd just brush aside his concerns like nothing because he was an unintelligent human, mere cattle, mere..._meat._

Unbidden, a memory arose in Demyx's mind, a memory he fought against with all his heart and soul and his entire being. He did _not _want to remember--did _not _want to remember a slate-haired boy, a boy with dark eyes and a young face belying years of knowledge and torment...a boy who cast him bitter smiles and harsh judgment...a boy who'd stared in bewilderment as Demyx declared his feelings...a beautiful boy, a pale boy, a boy like a broken butterfly...

_No. Not Zexion. Not him. Don't think about him. Don't...don't...don't..._

After all, Zexion had rejected him not once--but twice. That one time, with the butterfly, with the harsh comments about inadvertant spells and human mindlessness, was bad enough, but something Demyx could recover from. He could pick up the broken pieces of his heart, even after that. But the _second _time...

That was worse. The time when Demyx had been clutched in a stranglehold by a powerful vampire, struggling for breath and stomach lurching as the earth swung far beneath him...the time when Demyx had been begging, soundlessly, for someone to save him--for Axel, for Roxas--for _Zexion. _And Zexion hadn't come.

That, Demyx figured, was tantamount to a rejection. And it was a rejection far worse--far more painful--than the first. He couldn't recover from _that. _Zexion hadn't just broken Demyx's heart--he'd taken the pieces and cast them to the farthest seas, had burned them and watched the smoke curl up to the distant stars, carrying Demyx's hopes, dreams, feelings...

Zexion had made his feelings clear. If only Demyx could accept that, and move on.

"He seems remarkably inquisitive." Saix's voice, as apathetic as ever, stabbed sharply into Demyx's painful remembrances like an arrow stabs a bulls-eye, clearing his head and dragging him back to the present. "As far as I'm concerned, that doesn't make for a very good toy."

"_Your _opinion means nothing," retorted Xaldin, his words acrid. "The toy will be amusing. I know that."

Demyx didn't like all this chatter about "toys". He was quite sure Saix and Xaldin _weren't _talking about just Christmas presents or the ilk. To once more turn their attention to his plight, he said, loudly, "So? Where am I?"

"You are tied to a chair," said Xaldin dryly. "And for now, that is all you need to know."

It took all of Demyx's willpower to keep himself from screaming at Xaldin in frustration. No way, he _couldn't, _Xaldin was a pureblood vampire and far more powerful than Demyx--but Demyx was _angry. _He wanted to fucking know and he didn't need Xaldin to talk down to him and play mind games...

But Saix, thankfully, swooped in before Demyx could completely lose control. "You are in the...temporary...headquarters of the Coven of Thirteen," said Saix, turning to cast Demyx an emotionless glance. Demyx, nonetheless, felt a shiver run down his spine when Saix's predatory golden eyes swept over him... "You have been kidnapped and placed into a side chamber."

"The...the 'Coven of Thirteen'?" said Demyx, confused. He wracked his brains for the name but nothing floated from his memory. Axel had never bothered teaching Demyx the major covens, so Demyx didn't know...

"My, my, you're quite ignorant for a vampire slayer, aren't you?" said Xaldin, chuckling in sadistic pleasure. "Although admittedly, the Superior has done an admirable job of--"

Saix spoke over Xaldin, cutting the vampire off mid-sentence. "He is a vampire slayer?"

"Why should that matter to _you?" _grumbled Xaldin, sounding disgruntled, but said, louder, to Saix, "Yes, he is. Although not a particularly strong one."

"Ah." A knowing look came over Saix's face. "He's but a human slayer...I see."

"Huh?" Demyx goggled at Saix, confused. That was the second time, he was sure, he'd heard himself being referred to as that. "Human slayer", as if it was unusual that a human should be a vampire slayer...but why wasn't it? _All _vampire slayers were human, weren't they...? What else could they be, if they weren't?

"But of course, he doesn't know," said Xaldin with another low chuckle. "I suspect it would be best if he remained ignorant, too."

"Ignorant...? Huh? What?" cried Demyx, even more confused than before. Neither Saix nor Xaldin graced him with an answer.

"Lamentable fool," said Saix, his judgment swift and emotionless. He turned to the door again, which Xaldin had abandoned, and eased it open. "He may remain ignorant--but the Superior will not. I'll bring this news to him."

"You will not," growled Xaldin, trying to step in Saix's way--but Saix had already exited the room. "Come back here...!"

"Why are you worried?" Saix's voice echoed somewhat, as if he was already somewhere in the distance. "Are you afraid the Superior will take your toy from you? Hardly, he'd probably see the toy as an intriguing experiment...a tool he can use..."

"You can never tell what the Superior is thinking," was Xaldin's growled reply, as he stepped out of the door as well to follow Saix. "He made me get rid of my last toy." At his last words, a sullen, almost petulant, note slipped into his voice, as if he was a child deprived his favorite plaything.

"That's because she was the daughter of a rich and influential human family. It would be bothersome if she disappeared." Saix's voice was growing more and more distant. "_This _toy, however, doesn't seem very important..."

"Nonetheless..." protested Xaldin, but Demyx could no longer hear the vampire's reply. He and Saix seemed to have rounded a corner or something, so that their voices could no longer be heard.

And this, Demyx realized with a jolt, left him alone. Alone, and in the same position he'd been in the beginning. Tied to a chair, numb and uncomfortable and aching and throbbing all over. And above all--

He was confused out of his mind. With a sigh, Demyx lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to sleep again, to slip back into that welcoming darkness...but of course he couldn't. How _could _he sleep, when not only was he bound and imprisoned...but bound and imprisoned in the middle of a coven of dangerous, bloodsucking vampires?

Sleep, clearly, was out of the question.

* * *

Ha ha ha...and a little bit of plot comes in. Who could this "Superior" be...?

Chapter next, "Betrayal" will feature some Demyx flashbacks and some...Axel/Demyx-ish scenes. Ha ha ha. Preview here:

_He doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't know anything, anymore--nothing but the gentle smile on Axel's face, but the beautiful light in the slayer's eyes. He doesn't know anything, he doesn't care. He just takes one step, then two, forward, until he's directly in front of Axel. Axel stares at him, looking a little bemused, but doesn't protest when Demyx lifts his hand to the side of Axel's face, leans in closer, and--_

See? Axel/Demyx! And it is in present tense for a reason, in case you're wondering why I suddenly switched tenses.

Check out, also, a songfic project (involving Muse songs, because Muse is one of my favorite bands) that I've embarked on (though that will not distract me from _Tainted, _I swear). The link's on my profile.

Remember, read and review!


	13. Betrayal

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_13. Betrayal_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Quick update! Can't promise others will be coming this quick, but for now, enjoy. This is the chapter with some nice Axel and Demyx flashbacks, so enjoy. As well as Zexion and Lexaeus friendship, because I really do love their dynamic. But not pairing-wise, really...

I'm sorry for the lack of Roxas here...in fact, he doesnt' start playing a major role again until chapter sixteen. O_o I'm a bad writer, just forgetting characters for chapters at a time...

Blecch...I'm kind of feeling disappointed right now, because I got ReCoM for Xmas and was all excited about playing it--only to have it whine about not having enough space to save when I tried saving. But my PS2 has, like, a _ton _of free space on it, and all my other games can save. So...I guess I got a defective ReCoM. *angry*

* * *

Zexion was getting increasingly impatient.

It had been nine hours--nine exactly--since he'd first landed in the Northern port that afternoon, and gone to see Vexen and Lexaeus and the rest of the Northern Coven. Nine hours. Nine entire goddamn hours. Five hundred and forty minutes. Thirty two thousand and four hundred seconds.

And there still wasn't a _single _word from the other vampires. None, in nine hours. Zexion knew that vampires _did _tend to take their time to deliberate--being immortal, they didn't have to worry about time constraints the same way humans did, always frantically scampering about in an effort to accomplish several lifetime's worth of tasks during their brief span on Earth. He'd even heard of several vampiric meetings that had gone uninterrupted for decades. He shouldn't be begrduge this...the coven was just taking its time, deliberating and debating and throwing opinions back and forth...

But yet Zexion couldn't help but feel there was _another _reason behind their irritating slowness. A reason that had to do with the nature of his request--to search for, and return _alive, _a human slayer. No doubt, that was bound to raise the hackles of a few of the more orthodox vampires, and even the younger and more questioning vampires were probably having trouble accepting his request. He should be grateful that they were even bothering to hear him out--the standard response in any case would have been to give him a pat on his head (and a few blows elsewhere...) and send him off and tell him to attend his "incubus business".

Even that was starting to raise Zexion's suspicions. Would the leaders of the Northern Coven, ancient and powerful vampires all, really invest that much time into considering a request by a mere incubus? And one who was less than a century old, at that...

Whatever the leaders were discussing...it couldn't be good for Zexion. So he stayed alert, leaning on the doorframe of the room that he used whenever he stayed with the Northern Coven, his ears pricked, his every sense alert for any movement, any sign from the vampires deliberating in a distant chamber, far underground. Awaiting their judgment, prepared for the worst. Prepared to even fight, if he had to.

Because there was no reason to let the decision of a bunch of musty old vampires affect Zexion's resolve--his resolve to find Demyx.

* * *

Demyx sighed.

No one answered, of course. No one had come for him ever since Saix and Xaldin had left--minutes, hours, he didn't know--some time ago. He was still alone in the dark and cold room, bound to a chair, aching and confused.

He knew that his situation was dangerous--he was surrounded by an entire _coven _of vampires!--but somehow couldn't muster up any feelings of fear or apprehension. He just felt...annoyed, mostly. Annoyed at the chafing bonds around his wrist, ankles, and torso, annoyed at his confusion and how he'd just been left to rot here like he didn't have feelings of his own. Not to mention his stomach had started growling a storm...it was more than clear that he was hungry. After all, just _when _had his last meal been...?

So, since he had nothing else to do, he'd started to think. Initially, he had tried to keep his mind focused on nothing but the fear he was _supposed _to be feeling, as well as trying in vain to cook up plans for escaping. But _those _had quickly folded, since even if he did manage to get untied and out of the room, he'd have to deal with all the bloodthirsty vampires outside...and he just couldn't summon up the appropriate fear when nothing had come in to devour him yet.

His thoughts had started to spiral further and further away from his present situation--and, against his will, towards events long-past, events he'd thought he had suppressed but were now rising out of the darkness to the forefront again, forcing him to confront them...

Once again he was thinking about Zexion, despite all of his attempts not to. _Don't think about him! _he raged inside, but then again, it was just like trying not to think about a zebra. He thought of zebras the instant his mind told him not to, and so he also thought of Zexion. Not even the nice memories of Zexion--of Zexion's soft and cool hands clutching his own, of Zexion planting delicate kisses on his cheek and whispering comforting, meanginless words into his ear...of all the times they'd been together in Demyx's bed, while Zexion cast illusions of calm and peaceful nights around them...

Because inevitably, the nice memories became soured, morphed into something darker and more malignant. Who cared what those nice moments meant, after all, when Zexion had pretty much destroyed them all that--_that _night? The night where he had met Demyx's eyes and called him a fool, a brainless broken puppet. And then that other night--

His throat tightened and to his shame he felt a heat burn behind his eyelids whenever his mind inevitably turned to _that night. _The night when, essentially, his life had ended. The night when Zexion had rejected him. Had _betrayed _him.

Demyx didn't like to think about it that way...but he had to admit there was a kind of logic at once simple and beautiful, and utterly revolting. Of _course _Zexion hadn't cared about Demyx at all. It had all been a sham, any sign of enjoying Demyx's presence. Hadn't he said so himself, that night in the park...? But Demyx had been a fool and had really believed he'd _loved _Zexion. _Love! _Just thinking it now made him realize the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. How could a vampire slayer ever love an incubus? Any relationship like that would be doomed...would be unable to exist in the _first _place! Zexion had no concept of love, only lust--and of controlling others.

How marvelously he'd controlled Demyx, thought the slayer, gritting his teeth. How marvelously he'd toyed with Demyx's emotions, and finally, at the last moment, he had shown his true colors and thrown away any pretense of even liking Demyx in the first place. Why else hadn't Zexion come to save him...? There couldn't be any other explanation. Zexion had hated Demyx all along, and Demyx had been the blind idiot for not being able to see that.

Yet he couldn't erase the memory of Zexion, trembling as Axel berated him, of Zexion cowering broken and pathetic in his prison cell...of Zexion _smiling _to him that one time when he'd spilled his deepest dreams forth to the vampire, dreams he'd even kept from Axel...

No, Zexion didn't deserve Demyx's pity. All those times he'd just been manipulating Demyx. That was all. All of it was part of his act, and it was Demyx's fault for not listening to Axel and _falling _for it...

Axel. Demyx wondered how Axel was putting up, now that Demyx was gone... Was Axel searching for him? Of _course _he was, he had to be, Demyx shouldn't think that way...

But still, if Axel really _was _concerned for Demyx's welfare, then why hadn't he saved Demyx back then...? _No! Don't think that way! He was probably trying as hard as he could! _Axel did care about Demyx. Demyx had been his student once, after all, and they'd lived together for some ten years. There had to be a definite attachment, somewhere. Beneath all the condescension, beneath all the mocking and joking, had to be a genuine emotion, had to be _caring. _Had to...

Demyx instantly told himself to stop thinking this way--because these thoughts always led in _that _direction. There was nothing in _that _direction but darkness, a thick and tangled forest of evil intentions and territory best left unexplored. If he started thinking to hard on the subject, he would uncover the deep wounds that time had not yet healed, the deep wounds he'd long plastered over and tried not to reopen. And now there weren't only those older, festering wounds but newer injuries--

After all, Demyx would be a fool if he _couldn't _understand the way Axel smiled at Roxas, the way he spoke to the boy with such gentleness in his tone, the way his eyes lit up...

It was something Demyx had before only been able to dream about. Axel being so kind...but not to Demyx. _Not _to Demyx. He had to remember that. The feeling didn't belong to Demyx at all, no matter how fervently he might have wished it would. And he was fine with that. Who cared who Axel liked; Axel had long made it clear that he didn't feel _anything _that way for Demyx--

Too clear, too long ago. Yet a part of Demyx had never given up on hoping, even after all _that_... Even after Roxas, even after Zexion. He had still been able to _hope._

Demyx supposed he was just a slow learner.

* * *

_He knows he's slow. Knows he's slow and stupid and not fast enough to keep up with Axel, Axel always so nimble and graceful, his every movement almost like steps in a brisk dance. Not like Demyx, who lags and huffs and puffs into the dust while Axel dances blithely ahead._

_He can't help but feel that Axel is disappointed in him. How could he _not _be...? After all the times that he's screwed up, it's a surprise that Axel even lets him stay. That Axel can even pretend like there's hope for Demyx. _Hope! _As if._

_Funny how he could have had such big dreams when he'd first started out. Funny how he'd been near convinced he could be a slayer just as good as Axel. But he couldn't. He never could. He just can't keep up with Axel. He can't be fast enough, smart enough, _good _enough. He's inferior in every way, oh how he knows this. And it starts making him wonder if he's ever going to be a slayer at all. That old man at the party five years ago, he hasn't forgotten, told him that he had greater talents, elsewhere. And often Demyx can't help but agree._

_But he sticks with Axel anyway. Halfway out of an obstinate hope--he's never been good at giving in--but also because of something else. Because of..._

_Because of Axel's smile. Not his caustic smirk--_that _is too familiar--but the times, few and far between, when he _really _smiles. When Axel smiles, it's...it's like...Demyx can't describe it. It's like...like the sun's come out on a stormy day, chasing away the last of the dark clouds and brightening the entire world. Something like that, only even better. Maybe Demyx would like Axel's smile more if he did it more often, but somehow he doesn't think so. Axel's smile is so wonderful precisely because it's so rare._

_Pathetic as it sounds, he lives for those moments. The rare moments, the golden moments, the dollops of brightness in his dark days--the moments when Axel smiles at Demyx, smiles for real, and says, "Good job, Dems."_

_Not today, of course. Today Demyx has screwed up, screwed up royally, he feels. Axel was so _close _to killing those vampires, after all...and then _Demyx _had to be stupid and get in the way and he had to freeze and Axel kept screaming at him "Out of the fucking way, Dems!" but he couldn't move and--_

_Well, he's cost Axel a kill. And he's sure that Axel's angry at him. Not just angry--but _furious. _Furious enough, maybe, to even bring the house down from the force of his screaming. Demyx isn't sure if even Axel can scream that loud, but he doesn't want to test it, so that's why he's chosen to hide._

_Even though Demyx knows he's stupid, he still can't help but feel a burst of pride at--at _this. _At the hiding spot he's chosen. Axel will never find him, he's sure of that. After all, Axel would never think that Demyx would choose the _library _of all places to hide. Hell, if he's looking for Demyx instead of sulking in his room--which is more probable--he'll _never _suspect that Demyx is hiding here of all places! He'll probably look in the piano room or the kitchen or the veranda or all of Demyx's other favorite places, but the library? No way!_

_So Demyx feels pretty safe, right here, huddled under a table building a fort of books around him, just in case. Again, a slightly more rational part of his mind comments on the idiocy and sheer patheticness of it all. Why the hell is he hiding from Axel like Axel's an H-bomb or something? But he's afraid of Axel. Yeah, the guy he--he more than likes. He's _afraid! _But why shouldn't he be? When Axel gets mad...oh boy does he get _mad. _And Demyx is sure that Axel's got all the reason in the world to get mad at him today._

_He doesn't want to confront that angry Axel, as much as Demyx knows he deserves Axel's anger. So he hides, stacking book on top of book. It's kind of comforting. Like building Lego towers. Demyx never had Legos as a kid, so he was fascinated when he moved in with Axel and discovered Axel's multiple Lego sets. He liked building little houses and parks out of them and populating them with people; still does. Not that he'd ever let Axel know. There's a lot of things Demyx would rather Axel not know._

_He stacks a book called "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" on top of the Iliad. On top of that, the Oxford English Dictionary. Okay, he's filled that whole column now. Now, on to the next one...which should he use first? Moby-Dick and some book with a title in Spanish (something about Cien Anos or whatever...) are the same size, but Demyx decides he likes Moby-Dick better because a) it's in English, and b) the cover is more colorful than the Spanish book. So he uses Moby-Dick to build his next column._

_This is all very rewarding work, and he soon finds himself falling into the rhythm of searching and stacking, searching and stacking--so much so that he doesn't notice the sound of footsteps ringing through the empty library. Not at first. He's too enthralled by his fort-building to notice or care...but when he hears the voice, his hands freeze and he drops Pride and Prejudice to the floor with a resounding clunk._

_"Dems? Hey, are you in here?"_

Oh, shit. _He's been found._

_Demyx picks up the book, hoping that Axel hadn't heard the loud clunk it had made when it had hit the wooden floor...but it was no use, he could hear Axel's steps change direction and move closer in his direction. Oh crap oh crap oh _hell no_...he tries to build his fort with an increasing frenzy, throwing volumes willy-nilly on top of each other, not caring so much about structural integrity anymore, as long as he'd be hidden from Axel--_

_But it's all in vain. Axel stops directly in front of his table, and his voice, ringing louder than ever before, said, "Demyx? You under there?"_

_"No!" squeaks Demyx without thinking. The instant the word leaves his mouth, his face flushes bright red and he throws himself back, as if trying to make up for his gaffe by hiding further, but no, there's no way..._

_The book fort falls apart; a ray of mid-afternoon light strikes through the newly-opened space, illuminating Demyx for everyone to see--for _Axel _to see. There's no point in hiding now. Nothing to do but face Axel, heart thumping violently against his ribcage, hoping that Axel isn't _too _mad..._

_But to Demyx's surprise, Axel doesn't look angry at all. He mostly looks curious, and a little confused at the same time. There's certainly no anger in his face when he sweeps his green eyes over the scene, taking in Demyx and the haphazard pile of books..._

_"What're you doing here, Dems?" says Axel, again not sounding angry--just puzzled. "With all these books? Reading?"_

_"Er...um...yeah..." stammers Demyx, feeling his blush darken from the lie. "Yeah. Just...just reading."_

_"Hmm." Axel picks up one of the books--Crime and Punishment, it seems--and turns it back and forth in his hands, examining it "Yeah. I can see why you'd be fascinated by books like these."_

_"Yeah! Yeah, I was. Fascinating. Really." Demyx's words are becoming more and more silly and disjointed, and he responds by blushing harder. He's mortified--embarrassed--and still scared. Because even though Axel isn't _acting _angry...who knows?_

_"Ha ha ha." Axel's laugh clearly shows that he doubts Demyx's sincerity. "C'mon. Come out of there. Why are you hiding in the first place, huh?"_

What? _Demyx can only gape, flabbergasted, at Axel. There is no anger at _all _in his expression, and certainly no anger when he extends his arm in an helpful gesture to Demyx. But...but...Demyx is _sure _that Axel can't be happy about...about last night..._

_He takes Axel's hand anyway, dangling weakly and barely able to stand on his own strength. Even after Axel hauls him up to his feet, Demyx still can't stay steady. His legs feel like jelly, and the floor is spinning beneath his eyes--uh oh, not a good sign, is he going to _faint? _Oh, no, no, he can't faint...that would be the pathetic icing on the pathetic cake. The pathetic cherry on the pathetic sundae..._

_A vague, irreverent part of Demyx wonders if he's hungry. He probably is. He's sure he hasn't eaten anything the entire day._

_"Gee, Demyx! What the hell's the matter with you?" _Now, _Axel looks kind of angry--no, more _annoyed _than anything. "You look like you're going to have a panic attack. You sure you're all right?"_

_"Well...I...ah..." chokes Demyx, unable to wrap his mind around the _kindness _in Axel's voice...the _concern. _"I...I mean...you aren't...you're not...you're not _mad _at me?"_

_Much to his shame, his voice rises to a squeak on the last syllable, and he trails off, unable to think of what he's saying. He tries to look away, but then Axel tugs on his arm, making him turn his attention back to Axel. He expects Axel to finally unleash the rage he no doubt has been keeping pent up all day...but instead, Axel is...Axel is _smiling.

_Not quite the real smile that Demyx loves more than anything else, but a smile still. A teasing smile, a mocking smile, but also gentle as well--and Axel looks more amused than anything else. There's no anger at all in his eyes, nothing but a light and teasing, but kind as well, light..._

_"Come _on, _Dems. Were you seriously hiding because of that? Like I'd be mad at you for _that! _Happens to the best of us--I mean, just the other day, did you hear that Marluxia..."_

_Demyx _doesn't_ hear, because he's stopped listening the instant Axel stated he wasn't mad at Demyx. Instantly, all the worry, all the fear, that's been plaguing Demyx since they returned from their mission in the night vanishes, just as the strong afternoon sun made vanish the darkness beneath the table. He feels, instead, relieved--a great, overwhelming relief crushing him on all sides like a tidal wave. But greater than the relief is--is just a plain, pure, giddy sort of happiness that makes his head feel light and his heart pound faster. He's so _happy _and he has no idea why, no, he knows why, it's because--_

_It's because Axel's smiling again. That same calm, quiet, but _wonderful _smile that seems to light up his entire face and make the entire library glow. It's probably just the effect of the rich golden sunlight behind Axel, causing his skin to glow and his hair to shimmer, bright as firelight, but--but Demyx can't help but feel that the smile itself has transformed Axel's face. Has transformed his entire _being. _There's none of the dark energy and restlessness that seems to animate Axel so on most days. Instead, it's all been replaced by a sheer, glowing radiance, strong as sunlight and twice as beautiful._

_"So don't worry," says Axel, finishing a tale about Marluxia's follies that Demyx didn't even hear. "Everyone makes mistakes, okay? I'm not mad at you. Those were just two made vampires anyway; it's not like I really lost anything by letting them go. And _really, _Dems, I'm insulted!"_

_Uh-oh...here it comes. Here comes the anger...because no matter how Axel smiles, he's got to be mad about _something_--_

_"Because, c'mon, Demyx--you really think I care more about some stupid _vampires _than _you?"

_And Demyx's heart just stops._

_He doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't know anything, anymore--nothing but the gentle smile on Axel's face, but the beautiful light in the slayer's eyes. He doesn't know anything, he doesn't care. He just takes one step, then two, forward, until he's directly in front of Axel. Axel stares at him, looking a little bemused, but doesn't protest when Demyx lifts his hand to the side of Axel's face, leans in closer, and--_

_No conscious thought. Just nothing but his instincts, his heart now hammering a violent rhythm deep inside his chest, his other hand tightening around Axel's, while he brings Axel's face closer to his, not thinking, just _doing--

_The kiss isn't Demyx's first, but it's by far the best. Axel returns it just eagerly as Demyx initiated it, quickly snatching the reins of dominance from Demyx, his hand digging into Demyx's back, pulling Demyx closer to him while his tongue stabs into Demyx's mouth, rubbing against Demyx's, exploring every inch of the warm cavern while Demyx presses back into the kiss, lost in the dizzying sensation of Axel's tongue moving against his, of Axel's lips pressing ferociously against his own and forcing them to part further; overwhelmed by Axel's flavor, so sweet and intoxicating yet spicy as well, like cinnamon, and a hint of something darker and stronger, and stranger..._

_Axel pulls out of the kiss after what's probably only minutes, but feels like years--an eternity--to Demyx. Still, even that's not enough for him, and he whimpers at the loss of contact--but Axel just smiles and winks at him, and dives in for another kiss...and another, and another...it's all Demyx can do to keep up with his body, let alone his mind. He can't believe it. This is--this is just--it's everything. _Everything. _Everything he's always dreamed for and it's finally happening and is it really and oh hell Axel's lips have moved to his neck and his hands have moved down, to the hem of Demyx's shirt, and he's slowly rolling it up, exposing Demyx's skin..._

_Demyx decides not to think. Thinking will ruin it, making it less enjoyable. He instead gives in to the ecstasy pounding in tandem in his and Axel's veins, letting his fingers move to the front of Axel's shirt, just as Axel's hands move even lower, to Demyx's belt, and begin unbuckling it..._

_After that, bliss._

_

* * *

_

_"But _why, _Axel?" _

_Demyx knows how pathetic he sounds. How cracked, how shattered, how broken his voice is. How his words come out in a pathetic squeak, barely intelligible. He knows it all, and he hates it._

_But he can't help it. He can't do anything but follow Axel as the older slayer marches resolutely away from him, buttoning his shirt even as he walks. Demyx hasn't bothered putting his shirt back on. He doesn't care; let the servants passing by stare. He just has to make Axel _know--

_But Axel doesn't seem like he wants to listen to Demyx at all. He just keeps stomping ahead, dark fury oozing from him with every step he takes, shaking in anger. "Shut up, Dems. Shut up and go the hell away if you know what's good for you. Go _away!"

_Demyx, strangely, isn't affected by the sharp tone Axel's taking with him. He doesn't care about anything accept trying to make Axel _see, _trying to sort through his own wild and conflicted emotions. "But Axel--please--stop! I don't get it--why're you so mad--"_

_"Why am I _mad?" _Oh, Axel explodes at that. For the first time, he whirls around to face Demyx, fury twisting his handsome face into an ugly scowl. "_Why? _What, you fucking idiot, you haven't fucking figured it out! I'm mad because of--because of _that! _And fucking put your shirt on!"_

_Demyx toys with the notion of asking Axel what exactly "_that" _is, but he knows all right, and knows Axel won't appreciate efforts to stall. And he doesn't want to stall himself. He just wants to get to the bottom of it all... "Look, Axel, I don't get it..."_

_"Why? What's so fucking hard to get?" Axel's tone is sharp, accusing. Demyx has never heard Axel speak to him like this before, yet he isn't scared. He doesn't feel much, in particular, beyond a swirling confusion.. "Last night--that was--I mean--I can't _believe _I did that! It was a mistake, damn it! Do you hear me? A _mistake!"

_"I'm sorry, Axel--"_

_"Sorry? Don't be. You didn't do anything wrong." Demyx takes a step back, startled by Axel's sudden judgment--and by the way Axel's tone has changed. It isn't gentle, not quite, but also not angry anymore. Mostly calm, flat, clipped. Axel is facing him now, his hands in his pockets, his face expressionless._

_"Huh?" Demyx is surprised he can even breave; he's quite sure he's stopped breathing. He can only stand, and stare back at Axel, confused...why would Axel not be angry at him? After all, Demyx is the one who'd started it all, kissing Axel like that...what idiocy, how stupid of him, but then again, he's always known he's only the greatest idiot to walk the earth..._

_"It's not your fault. How could you--I mean...when you first...I should have stopped you then!" Axel's anger is rendering him incoherent, destroying his usual glibness. "I should have stopped you when you first did that! I shouldn't have...I'm really sorry, Dems. By fucking God, I'm _sorry. _I didn't mean to...to give you false hope like that. I don't know what I was thinking, but it was wrong. I shouldn't have done any of that. I'm sorry."_

_Demyx, to his shame, doesn't reply at first. He doesn't know what to do. He's just so--so _confused. _Axel's words drift past his ears, but they don't have any special meaning. _When you first did that...give you false hope...it was wrong...

_Wrong...wrong...false hope..._

_Of fucking _course.

_Axel doesn't feel the same way Demyx does. How much more obvious could it _be...? _Well, all right, he returned Demyx's kiss--but Demyx knows as well as anyone that a kiss hardly means love. How many people has he kissed not because he cared, but because he _lusted? _That's all it was. Axel kissed Demyx--did _everything _with Demyx--not out of love. It's Demyx's fault, Demyx's delusion, for ever thinking he did._

_"Look, Demyx...I...let's just...let's just agree to forget it, okay? Forget it ever happened. All right? Got it memorized?" Axel's tone has become both pleading and jocular, as if he's trying to act light-hearted, trying to act like nothing's happened, like nothing's changed..._

_But things have. Things _have _changed. How can Demyx just continue with his life, continue following in Axel's shadow, after last night? He can't forget it, even if he wants to. And he _doesn't _want to forget it. He doesn't want to regret it, either. He wants to believe that it was the start of something new. Something different. Something better. A relationship better than their current teacher and student relationship. A...a _real _relationship. He wants to, so bad, but the way Axel is looking at him, so expectantly, expecting Demyx to agree that it was just a mistake, makes it plain that _Axel _doesn't want that._

_"Axel..." says Demyx, his voice so quiet he can barely hear it. He feels strangled, suffocated. Goosebumps have risen on his skin but he feels that's not just because he isn't wearing his shirt. "Axel...look..."_

_"All right?" Axel then smiles--but it isn't that beautiful sunshine smile, nor is it his usual confident smirk. It's an awkward smile, another pathetic stab at blase friendliness. "All right? C'mon. Let's put that behind us. All right, Dems?"_

_Demyx knows what Axel's offering. And he knows the right thing to do is to accept. He knows the right thing to do is just smile and nod and act like he agrees with Axel's judgment, that it was all just a giant mistake, a spur-of-the-moment decision that spiraled out of control. But...he can't._

_He can't. Not anymore. He's finally done it--finally showed Axel how he truly feels. And because of that, he's now willing to accept the consequences. No matter how painful they might be. But it'd be tantamount to betrayal--betrayal of _himself_--to pretend that he doesn't feel anything. That he never felt anything. Because he did, and he still does._

_So he tries to do what he knows is right. But his knees are shaking and his heart is quailing in his chest and he just can't _think_, his mind's a wild blur and he can do nothing but stand there and shake and look like an idiot while Axel stares blankly back at him, damn he's such an idiot why why _why _did he have to kiss Axel in the first place..._

_Would he be happier if he hadn't? If he hadn't--for just one night, at the very least--gotten what he'd wanted?_

_"Well, Dems?" said Axel. He sounds just as friendly as before, but now there's a tense, expectant edge to his voice. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? C'mon, Dems. Let's forget everything. Come on."_

_Demyx _wants _to say No, no, no, I don't want to. I don't want to forget. I love you, Axel. I don't want to forget. But he can't. His throat feels stuck and his mind isn't working fast enough to string words together into coherent sentences. He feels frozen, unable to do anything. Helpless, lost, confused. A million voices in his head are screeching for him to say _something, _to protest--but an equally striden chorus is telling him to just accept Axel's words. To accept that it was just a mistake, and that he won't do it again, and they'll just be student and teacher, just be friends, and that will be that and all will be fine._

_That chorus wins. Spurred on by the voice of reason, spurned by the voice of love, he jerks is head, once, twice, in a mute nod. Because he still can't speak. If he speaks, he's afraid he'll--hell, that he'll _cry. _And he doesn't want any reason for Axel to see him as more pathetic than he already is._

_Axel lets out a deep sigh, as if a great weight's been lifted from his shoulders. He then smiles--another stab at a real smile, but failing--and shrugs in a gesture meant to be loose and casual, but looking more relieved than anything. "Well, that's good. Good to see we're clear on that. All right--get dressed again, and we'll get started on lessons this afternoon...figured you should try mastering the French dismembering techniques..."_

_Axel's tone has fallen back into the familiar lilt of teacher lecturing student. Too familiar, too painful, now. What can Demyx do about it, though? He can only follow, trailing after Axel like the shadow he never wanted to be but is, as the redheaded slayer walks away, hands in his pockets and still lecturing, unaware of anything. Unaware of Demyx, miserable behind him...acting just like nothing had happened. Then again, that's probably what Axel wants. To pretend that nothing has happened._

_Demyx can't, though. He follows Axel today, and tomorrow, but it never feels right to him. Never again. He must be a pretty good actor, though; or Axel unobservant or just in denial, because Axel never asks Demyx if anything's wrong. Deep in Demyx's heart, though, he knows he can't keep pretending. One day, his heart is going to break from the effort of acting like their one-night-stand was just that--a one-night stand, empty, meaningless, spurred on by lust alone. For as long as he can, though, he's going to continue to pretend. Continue to betray himself._

_One month passes, then two. Then, finally, one day Demyx quietly leaves the house before Axel wakes up, heads to the slayer authority, and takes the slayer test. He passes, to his surprise. But even if he hadn't, he would've kept going, every day, until he passed._

_He returns to Axel's house to pack his belongings--and leave a letter and a copy of his license. Just to let Axel know what's happened. Then, he picks up his bag, hoists it over his shoulder, and turns around. Turns around, and doesn't look back. Hopes to never look back again._

_

* * *

_

Of course, it wasn't as simple as that. He did come back in the end...because in spite of all his resolve...Demyx _had _missed Axel. That was why he'd returned to Axel, that night at the party. He was surprised how it was all coming back to him, standing in sharp relief against the haze of most of his memories...he'd forgotten, in the ensuing excitement with Zexion. All about Axel...all about his _real _reasons for coming back in the first place.

And now Demyx was left utterly lost and confused about where his feelings lay. He'd been so convinced he was in love with Zexion...but looking back, it was now becoming increasingly clear that his "love" for Zexion had been nothing more than lust and misplaced judgment. And Axel...

Where did that put Axel now? Did Demyx still feel anything for Axel? _Could _he still feel anything for the man who had smirked so caustically even while abusing Zexion, while pinning the incubus to the bed and raping him even as he lectured Demyx like this was just an ordinary lesson...?

Damn it. Why did his thoughts keep spiraling in this direction? Demyx groaned and lowered his head, and if his hands were free he'd have buried his face in them. The fact that he _was _tied up alerted him to his present situation--and then he couldn't help but unleash a long, bitter laugh. What the hell was he doing, musing about love while bound and imprisoned by an entire coven of _vampires?_

Sometimes, Demyx had to wonder where he'd misplaced his sanity. He guesed that the most likely spot would have been on the room of a rickety tenement building, on a rainy night years and years ago when he'd been running for his life from a bloodthirsty demon of the night...

* * *

Zexion had to admit that _this _was not the most mature thing he'd done. And definitely not one of the smartest. He already lacked plenty when it came to physical strength, and had not helped things by kicking the wall very, _very _hard. Hard enough to send pain shooting through his foot. Now he was perched on the edge of the bed, clutching his foot and hissing in pain, as well as discontent at his own stupidity.

_Still. _Seriously--eleven hours? Something was wrong. Something had gone horribly wrong, somewhere in the proceedings...and now Zexion's every nerve was afire with apprehension. He was surprised that he was able to sit still, so jittery with nervousness he was...but no, he had to remain calm. Getting worked up wouldn't help him...

Again, in vain, the vampire pricked his ears for any sound that could make its way to his chambers from the deep, underground deliberation chamber...but heard nothing. He sighed, but wasn't disappointed. Even with his heightened senses, there was no way he could hear from all the way down _there. _He could detect their scents, somewhat; he'd always had a keen sense of smell even for a vampire. But the scents wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know, and that was whatever the hell the coven leaders were saying.

Zexion wondered why he was even bothering hanging around and waiting for the slow, ancient higher-ups to give his mission their blessing. He could have already left and gone off to search for Demyx on his own...darkly, he thought that he'd be able to find Demyx by the time it took the leaders to finally end their deliberations. But no...he couldn't do it on his own. Maybe if it had been a lesser pureblood who had kidnapped Demyx, but...but not Xaldin. He could not confront a vampire like Xaldin alone; to do so would be tantamount to suicide. And as Zexion quite valued his own life...

He had no choice but to do this. The only one of the Thirteen Covens that would even offer to help him was the Northern Coven, and so to the Northern Coven he'd gone. But he hadn't expected that they would take _this _long to consider his request. Really, it had been a very simple one...and he knew Lexaeus was influential amongst the coven's leadership. Lexaeus he could count on to be his advocate; how many times before had Lexaeus stood up for Zexion before the higher-ups?

But now it appeared even Lexaeus' calm rationality wasn't winning the other leaders over. Zexion chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip, trying to fight down the rising apprehension in his stomach. He had to stay calm, had to stay calm, had to...

Then all pretense of calmness vanished when he realized that three scents were moving in his direction.

Two of them were unfamiliar; but one was Lexaeus's, deep, earthy, calm, comforting. He shouldn't be apprehensive...Lexaeus wouldn't harm him...but still Zexion couldn't dispel the feeling that something..._something_...was wrong. That Lexaeus wasn't going to have the answer that Zexion wanted...

Taking in a deep breath, Zexion gathered all his powers about him--reveling in how _freely _he was able to use them now, now that Axel was no longer restricting him--and began to weave an illusion. Not a difficult one; just an illusion in which he was on the far opposite end of the room, pacing back and forth with his head down, instead of leaning against the wall right by the door. It'd help give him the element of surprise, which might even work out in his favor in a physical battle.

To help matters further, he constructed the illusion of a barrier, dark and nebulous and impenetrable, over the doorway. It wouldn't deter Lexaeus, but maybe the other two., who from the smell of it were vampire guards. Only a step above incubus in vampiric hierarchy. He could deal with _them _easily...

But why was Lexaeus coming with an escort in the first place? He didn't need guards to talk with Zexion, unless...

And then they were there, and Zexion had no more time for thought. The door flew open with a resounding bang, causing Zexion to tense; but his barrier held fast and he heard the sound of something heavy thunking against it and then bouncing off, swearing copiously. Zexion couldn't help but smirk a little inside, pleased in himself. His illusion was holding...

"Damn it! What's going on?" a loud, angered voice shouted, sounding slightly muffled from beyond the illusory barrier. This time, Zexion wasn't sure if he was quite keeping his smirk to himself; he felt a little twitching at the corners of his lips.

"It is an illusion." Lexaeus's voice was, as always, deep and tranquil, rumbling like the earth itself. Zexion, despite himself, felt the apprehensive quivering in his nerves lessen at the sound of the older vampire's voice. He knew Lexaeus wouldn't hurt him...that he could trust Lexaeus...

Then, the tone of Lexaeus's voice changed--and Zexion realized with a jolt that Lexaeus was now addressing _him. _"Ienzo. Release your illusions. Let us in."

Zexion almost did it--but a prickling on the back of his neck warned him to be careful, that not all was as it seemed. Instead, he said, his voice calm, carefully-controlled, but with a level of warning to it as well, "Tell me what you've come here for. Have you made your decision?"

"Yes, Ienzo. We have."

Zexion bit back an audible sigh of relief; who knew, after all, if Lexaeus came bringing good news? But the tone of his voice was so calm, with not even a trace of disappointment in it as it would have if the leaders had reached the _other _decision... Why should Zexion doubt Lexaeus, the one vampire in the entire world whom he could claim was a true friend? True, Vexen _was _his friend as well, but...not on the same level that Lexaeus was. In a strange way, their friendship was one of complements--Zexion a delicate incubus who loved the power of words above all; Lexaeus a well-built warrior who cherished his silence. Zexion had always been able to depend on Lexaeus, and Lexaeus on Zexion.

So it was with no apprehension that Zexion lowered both his illusions--they'd been beginning to tire him, anyhow--and said to Lexaeus, his tone pleasant but noncommittal, "Do come in, Aeleus. Forgive me, I was only trying to be...ah..._cautious."_

"I see," was all Lexaeus said, and without preamble he stepped into the room, his massive bulk making it seem like it had shrunk in half. Behind him trailed two vampire guards, less well-built than him but still respectably beefy. Zexion took a step backward to accomodate them, eyeing Lexaeus with a neutral expression.

"Let's not waste time, Aeleus. The decision...?"

Lexaeus's face was as blank as Zexion's, his expression inscrutable. That was expected, though; Lexaeus had always been stoic, and would report any news matter-of-factly, whether it was good or bad. He didn't speak, at first, and the guards behind him were exchanging odd, knowing glances, fidgeting uncomfortably...no, not uncomfortably...more...more...like they were..._eager_...like they were looking forward to doing..._something_...

Zexion took another step backward, his apprehension rising again, although he tried not to let it show. Again, he said, keeping his voice as level as before, "The decision? I haven't got all day. Tell me. Have you approved the mission or not...?"

Lexaeus still didn't say anything to this, but was surveying Zexion now with the oddest expression. Like all of his facial expressions, it was hard to read, but there was something to it beyond the usual stoicity...something akin to...pain, or helplessness...perhaps even a flash of pity, for Zexion...

Zexion didn't pause to think. The instant he saw--and understood--the look in Lexaeus's eyes, he began to weave together an illusion of brilliant sunlight to assault the three other vampires. But he didn't get time to finish--before he could understand what was going on, he had been snatched by the arms, hoisted, struggling in the air, between the two warriors.

"Aeleus!" shouted Zexion, trying to hide his panic between an outward veneer of righteous indignancy. "What's the meaning of this?"

For the first time, Lexaeus turned away, breaking eye contact with Zexion. The gesture shocked Zexion beyond all else that had happened in the space of the past five minutes--it was beyond all doubt a sign that _Lexaeus _was behind this. He froze, feeling an icy chill rise from the pit of his stomach to seize his chest, where his heart would be beating a mile a minute if he had been human...

"Aeleus!" shouted Zexion again, because Lexaeus still had not spoken. Zexion received no answer again, though, save the warriors tightening their grips on his arms. Zexion grit his teeth, trying to ignore the bruises the vampires were most definitely leaving behind... "Answer me, dammit! What are you--what have you _done?"_

"Shut up, incubus, it's not in your place to question," snarled one of the guards, yanking extra hard on Zexion's arm. Zexion, to his shame, cried out from the pain--he was quite sure that the vampire had been only inches from dislocating his shoulder.

"Yeah," grunted the other guard. "You know the Superior's policies. Traitors don't deserve any leniency."

_Traitors? _The word raced through Zexion's panicking mind, making no sense at all but nonetheless causing his breaths to come shorter and faster, causing alarm bells to sound wildly--but then, with a burst of cold horror, he realized. He realized everything--what had happened--what the word meant--

_What Lexaeus had done._

"You--y-you--_Aeleus_--" he gasped, twisting in the guards' increasingly painful grip, trying again to meet Lexaeus's eyes--and failing. Lexaeus still had his head turned, his face cast to the floor, as still and silent as always...but seemed to shaking, imperceptibly, so much so that Zexion barely noticed, but he did--

"_Aeleus! What the hell did you do?"_

"Ienzo...I'm sorry." Zexion started in horror when Lexaeus spoke--horror at the tone of Lexaeus's voice. Low, abject, miserable...filled at once with self-loathing and resignation.

"Aeleus..." gasped Zexion, all of the fight leaving him, slumping limply in the guards' grip.

"I could not...I am very sorry, Ienzo. But the Superior's orders are absolute."

With that, Lexaeus turned away, his massive form moving slowly, his steps hesitant...as if he was weighed down by a burden that even his powerful shoulders could not bear. Step by pained step, he headed towards the door, until he stood in the doorframe, his huge form sillhouted in the thin rectangle.

Just beofre Lexaeus left, however, Zexion found his voice.

"_Traitor!" _he screamed, with a raw intensity that burned in his throat and horrified yet invigorated him at the same time. He couldn't think anymore--could only burn in rage, rage at Lexaeus's betrayal--how dare he how dare he _how DARE he-- "Traitor! Filthy--dirty--damned--TRAITOR!!! Traitor--traitor--TRAITOR--"  
_

He screamed until his voice cracked and could not rise anymore. But there was no point in it, anyway--Lexaeus was already gone, slipped away while Zexion had been absorbed in his rage, had been absorbed in raining upon Lexaeus every curse and condemnation he knew, even slipping back into that tongue he had not spoken for so long unless he had to, because he believed himself no longer innocent enough to do it justice--but he'd startled himself too with the intensity of his fury in his native language, since he'd long viewed it as quiet, gentle, sophisticated. All of the things he no longer was.

But his voice had given in, in the end--even he as he was now, stained and jaded and bitter, could not maintain such a steady flow of hatred and poison. He had slumped, tired, his energy drained, between the arms of the two guards who had simply stood and restrained him and let him rant and rave--perhaps they thought it was entertaining. Zexion thought he should be bothered by being considered a mere toy, an amusing spectacle, but most of him no longer cared. His dignity had gone away, long ago...too long to remember...

All he had left were his friendships. And even they had been taken away from him. Lexaeus, as constant and steady as a rock...turned traitor in an instant. Zexion no longer wanted to think; thinking would make it hurt more.

So he didn't begrudge it when the guards exchanged a few words that seemed to be wondering what to do with Zexion, and then hit him hard, in the back of his head. Zexion let the blackness creep into his vision and take him without any protest. It was warm and comforting, and besides, somewhere in that darkness, was the one person who _hadn't _betrayed him...

...was Demyx...

* * *

Poor Zexy-poo...

The next chapter is called "Xemnas"...I wonder why! Anyway, I feel it's the most intensely plot-related so far. I hope. And here's the preview:

_He felt a heavy hand, cold as ice, press against his forehead, the fingers digging into the skin of his temples, most certainly leaving bruises behind. Zexion wanted to protest, wanted to make some noise, some tiny show of defiance--but his breath was stuck in his throat and he couldn't think, it almost felt like more than just the weight of the Superior's hand was pressing on him, that it was the full weight of the Superior's entire being, his entire dark disapproval--_

Yes, Xemnas tormenting Zexion galore. But no rape. I do like the XemZex pairing (especially noncon), but there isn't going to be any of that in this story.

Remember to send a review or two in my way, mmkay, folks? (and suggestions, if you have any, about what to do about my broken ReCoM...grrr)


	14. Xemnas

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_14. Xemnas_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Again, another quick update. You can probably expect quick updates up until chapter sixteen, after which I'll go hibernate for the winter, meaning study for the SAT. We shall see, we shall see.

Anyway, this chapter contains Demyx and Zexion's reunion, so we'll see how that works out...as well as some very unexpected people showing up in the first scene...but no more suspense and on to the chapter proper!

* * *

Somewhere in a dark room, amidst labyrinths of halls in a warehouse by the sea, three individuals were holding a very...unusual...meeting.

Xemnas, the Superior of the Coven of Thirteen, sat behind a metal folding table, emanating confident serenity. His hands were linked together, his orange eyes glinting with a strange, deeply-satisfied light. Even in the dim light from a single bulb on the ceiling, his long silver hair shone brightly in the dark, contrasting with skin that was not death-pale like that of most vampires, but a rich shade of brown. His clothes were dark, simple; an open trench coat over a turtleneck. Despite the rigidity of his position, and the fact that he was a vampire, he seemed to be exuding life--a deep energy from the very core of his being. A dark energy that seemed to invigorate him, his every slow and dramatic gesture, and made him the most easily noticed of all three in the room.

Across the Superior sat another vampire, almost the polar image of Xemnas--he was slim and pale, and young-looking, appearing only around his mid-teens. His hair was silver like Xemnas's, but shorter, and his eyes a piercing shade of blue-green, with cat-like pupils and a feral, alert light, in contrast to Xemnas's more serene expression. The vampiric youth was, like Xemnas, clad in a black trench coat, though his was tightly buttoned. He seemed ill at ease, impatient, constantly shifting in his folding chair and alternating shooting expectant looks at Xemnas and the third figure.

The third figure was an older man, looking much physically older than both the Superior and the other vampire--in his late forties, or maybe even early fifties. His hair was white-blonde, and cropped short, including a neatly-trimmed beard. His eyes were blue, sharp, glinting with a strange amused light as if the proceedings were but a game he was intrigued in. Unlike the other two, he wasn't wearing a black trench coat, instead dressed in a sober, three-piece charcoal-gray suit and tie. In fact, by all appearances the man could have been any lawyer or banker or businessman or other such professional...and the rosy tint of his skin hinted that he was no vampire.

"An unusual proposal," said Xemnas. "And one, unfortunately, that I'm not quite willing to accept..."

"Why not?" said the other vampire, looking annoyed but sounding expectant. "You're obviously not averse to forming...odd...alliances. If the _smell _of this place is anything to go by..." He pulled a disgusted face at that, as if to make his disgust even clearer to Xemnas.

"It smells perfectly fine to _me, _young man," said the bearded man in a rich voice with a prominent British accent, smiling in a patronizing way. "If, of course, you don't take into account the punget aromas of raw sewage and rotting fish..."

"I beg your forgiveness, Mr. Luxord," said Xemnas, the slightest hint of a cold smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. "I'm not too fond of the seaside setting myself, but for now, these headquarters will have to do. Until better accomodations come."

"Oh, no, it's no issue at all," said the man--said Luxord, the banker who provided so many funds for vampire slayers--with a casual wave of his hand. "I understand how stressful it must be for you, my dear Superior. Gathering together all the covens, forging alliances...the last thing you need is for a mere _human _banker to start complaining about your headquarters!"

"Don't speak about yourself that way, Mr. Luxord," said Xemnas, his smirk widening infestimally. "You are no 'mere' banker. In fact, out of everyone--human, vampire, other--pledged to my cause, you've contributed the most. I would never have been able to get as far as I have if it wasn't for _your _support..."

Luxord just laughed in a pleased but self-aggravandizing way as well. "Such high praise, coming from you, Superior..."

"Speaking of _alliances," _interjected the other vampire, sounding irritated, "what do you say about my offer? Superior Xemnas? If you want more allies--besides turncoat human bankers--"

"'Turncoat', young man? Really, that is _rather _severe--"

The vampire just spoke over Luxord. "--then you'll consider the offer we're making. Imagine what it'd be like, having the aid of Sephiroth--surely you'd agree he's one of the most powerful vampires to have ever walked the planet?"

"That may be true..." said Xemnas, his silver eyebrows knitting closer together in concentration, steepling his fingers, "but at the same time, I only forge alliances with covens. Not individuals."

"There's not just Sephiroth. There's me, Loz, and Yazoo; and once we find her, Mother, too," snapped the vampire, his eyes narrowing, looking even more irritated.

"Ah, and what use would I have for the aid of the remnants of a pureblood family?" said Xemnas, arching an eyebrow, the gesture slow and theatrical as his every gesture was. "Do believe me, young...Kadaj, was it?...that I would not be as apprehensive if there were more than four of you. For my purposes...I would prefer an alliance with a powerful coven, consisting of vampires who are not all related to one another."

"That might be difficult to find, now, though," said Luxord with a satisfied little chuckle. "Is there a single coven that _isn't _under your control?"

"There are more than thirteen covens in the world, Mr. Luxord," said Xemnas serenely, and turned his strange orange eyes to the ceiling.

"But the thirteen under your control are already the most influential in the world. The Northern...The South-Central European...the Eastern European...the Chinese...the Indian..." said Luxord, drawing each name out for emphasis. "There are _other _covens out there, certainly, Superior. But most likely they're nothing but loose hodgepodge collections of vampires who've banded together out of temporary self-interest. Why not consider the young man's offer? If you wish to build as wide a coalition as possible, then there's certainly little harm in allying with a family. Or rather, what remains of one."

"On principle, I would refuse..." said Xemnas, also drawing his words out as Luxord had, but out of exaggerated pensiveness in his case. He still did not look down from the ceiling, though it was rather uninteresting save for the fact that it was leaking.

"On _principle, _Superior Xemnas," snapped back Kadaj, "you wouldn't associate with human bankers, either. Or nasty feral dogs."

Luxord laughed at that, while Xemnas turned his gaze down from the ceiling to meet Kadaj's eyes, his expression unreadable. "Saix has been...a valuable ally for me. I will not have you speak of him in that manner."

Kadaj shifted forward in his seat, looking ready to protest--but then sighed and shook his head and said, somewhat grudgingly, "All right. Forgive me, then, Superior Xemnas."

"Of course, of course," said Xemnas almost breezily, as if he didn't much care for Kadaj's apology. "And as for Luxord..."

"I wouldn't consider myself an ally," said Luxord with a dry little chuckle. "More like the sort of person who prefers to cover all of his bases. I'll freely admit that the only person I am out for is myself. It's out of enlightened self-interest that I've chosen to aid Xemnas, at the same time that I pretend to be loyal to the slayers. A dangerous game, true, but then again, the most entertaining games are the ones with the highest stakes."

"I see," said Kadaj, though he looked somewhat perturbed. "Weird attitude for food to have, though..."

If Luxord--or Xemnas--was offended at all by Kadaj referring to the banker as "food", they didn't get a chance to express it. Moments after Kadaj spoke, the door to the chamber opened, and a vampire stepped in--a pureblood messenger.

"Superior," he said, pausing and stiffly saluting in the doorway. "I bring a report from the leaders of the Northern Coven."

"The Northern Coven...?" Xemnas stood, the movement slow and stately, but with an taut urgency hidden within--almost like a spring tightly coiled. "It must be important, if it's enough to interrupt a meeting between two of my allies, one current and one potential..."

Kadaj frowned a little, but his eyes widened--obviously pleased that Xemnas was at least considering him a "potential" ally.

"Well...well, Superior..." said the messenger, looking nervous--and his gaze lingering for a moment on Luxord, taking in Luxord's warm-with-life skin, the blood still pulsing within him. "It _is _important...you see, Superior...the Northern Coven...they've found a traitor."

"A traitor?" Now of all of Xemnas's attention had been absorbed by the messenger. Ignoring his two companions, he approached the messenger, his steps as slow and deliberate as ever, his coat swishing with his every powerful movement. "What sort of traitor...?"

"An incubus, Superior," said the messenger, looking nervous as Xemnas approached but never breaking his salute. "He might have sold some inside information to one of the prominent slayer families..."

"A slayer family?" Xemnas's interest was piqued now, if the way his eyes narrowed and his hands curled into fists was anything to judge by. "This is truly...well, then. I must see this traitor--and deal with him appropriately. Mr. Luxord, Kadaj--you may go now. As regretful as I am to cut our discussion short for today...the matter of a potential traitor must be dealt with urgently. I will send each of you summons after I am finished with the traitor, so we may continue our negotations as quickly as possible."

With that, he swept imperiously out of the room, coat trailing behind him, looking for all the world what he claimed he was--the Superior, leader of the most powerful coven in the world, confident and fully prepared to deal with one measly traitor of an incubus.

* * *

"Please...Superior...I was captured, Superior, I was captured and held prisoner, you must understand--but I didn't tell him anything--I _promise _you, Superior..."

Zexion cowered on his hands and knees before the Superior, forehead pressed to the floor and trembling in terror--terror of the pain he _knew _Xemnas could inflict. _Would _inflict. Nothing mattered to him anymore...not even the veneer of dignity he'd always been so careful to maintain. Nothing mattered except pleading to the Superior for mercy, the barest hint of mercy, he had to he _had _to--

"Who, I ask, gave you permission to seduce the heir to the La Monte family?" The Superior's voice was as slow and deep as Zexion remembered it, as cold, as terrible, as merciless...the same voice that always haunted Zexion's nightmares, no matter how hard he tried to shake its presence off...

"N-no one Superior--forgive me--I didn't--it was w-wrong--"

"Forgiveness, little incubus, is for those who deserve it." Xemnas's voice, cold and heavy with disapproval, was enough for Zexion to cease his miserable attempts at begging for mercy.

"Superior..." was all he could manage, in a low, mortified whimper.

He was terrified, damn it. So scared he could barely move, could barely even summon up the oxygen to force words from his lips. The fear had taken root in his mind, erasing everything--even the hurt and anger at Lexaeus's betrayal. Even his resolve to find Demyx had almost been quashed by the force of the animalistic terror that had overwhelmed him...that had always overwhelmed him, on the previous occasions--few and far between--where he'd been summoned in for an audience with the Superior.

And always, those times...at least Vexen or Lexaeus or both or any other vampire would have been with him. And those times, the Superior had mostly been clipped, formal, delivering orders to the vampires accompanying him. It had never before been like this, with Zexion alone and the sole subject of the Superior's rage...the fear was worse, so much worse, a hundred times worse than before--

He didn't know what was going to happen to him. What punishment the Superior could possibly have in store...or even if he was going to emerge from this _alive. _And Roxas, he wondered about his servant, too, who'd last been quarantined on his own inside the Northern Coven...had _he _been taken to the main coven as well? No doubt, Roxas was going to be killed as well; it was just standard practice for all the servants of a traitor to be killed along with the traitor himself.

_No...I don't want to die. Not here. Not now. I can't die. Not when Demyx is...not when Demyx...I can't die. Not before I find Demyx. Not before I apologize to him...not before I make things right._

"Little incubus, I expect you to tell me _everything _that you refused to tell the leaders of the Northern Coven," Xemnas was saying as he paced back and forth, back and forth, in a room he must have been using as his office. "Everything about what you were doing during the two months you went missing. The two months that you were the slayer La Monte's captive. Tell me everything...and _do not _leave anything out."

With a sudden dread jolt, Zexion realized that Lexaeus wasn't the only one who had betrayed him. So Vexen, too...

He'd expected it. But it didn't hurt any less.

"Superior..." He gulped, trying to collect his wits, and went on again. "I...ah...I crept into his window that night...I'm sorry...it was just _open _and it looked so tempting and--"

"Did it not strike you, little incubus, that it could have been a trap for one of your kind?" The Superior's voice was heavy with disapproval, so much so that Zexion flinched, as if he'd been lashed at. "Naive as you might be...surely even _you _must know that many slayers leave open windows as traps. Although I don't think you must have realized it then, caught in the _moment _as you were..."

Zexion was to afraid to even summon up the usual indignity he felt when addressed as such by another vampire--as if the only thing he should care about was sex. But now, instead of the retort he would have snapped at Vexen, he could only manage a mumbled, "Yes, Superior. I'm sorry, Superior."

"No, you're not," said Xemnas, a hint of amusement sliding into his terrible deep voice. "But no matter. Continue, incubus. What happened after you crept into the slayer's window?"

"I...ah...I t-tried...to...to...you know, Superior..." He took in a deep, shuddering breath, struggling for the courage to continue. "But he...he...he saw through and he...before I knew what was happening, he..."

It was almost too much, too much for him to say. He could still remember it, with a clarity as if it hadn't happened months ago but was happening _right now..._remembered the tide suddenly turning as he bent over Axel, planting soft kisses down the slayer's neck and whispering low, seductive nothings...remembered Axel grasping him by the wrist and hurling him down to the bed with startling force...remembered Axel bending over him, unmistakable lust burning in his brilliant green eyes...remembered the feeling of foreboding that had pressed upon him when he realized what was happening...that he'd lost control...

Zexion had almost been able to forget. Almost, that first night...the first night when Axel had established his dominance over Zexion. The first night of countless nights...

"He mastered you." The Superior's voice, flat and emotionless, cut like a knife through Zexion's panicking thoughts, and Zexion was surprised by how much easier he was able to breathe, now that the Superior had been able to put in words what Zexion had been terrified of explaining...

"Y-yes, Superior."

"But you didn't tell him his name, now, did you, little incubus?" Still the amusement. Still the disapproval...

"No, Superior." Zexion tried to keep the trembling out of his voice. "He...he mastered me the other way..."

He didn't need to tell Xemnas what "the other way" was. He was sure that Xemnas already knew...could infer it from the multiple bandages on Zexion's face, his neck, his wrists, the backs of his hands...could perhaps even infer it from the way Zexion had moved, conscious of trying to walk with as little pain as possible.

But in a strange way it made Zexion feel relieved. The punishment he'd get for having been mastered the _other _way would make this punishment appear piddling. Not that this punishment wouldn't be painful, would perhaps even result in his own death, but...

"Speaking of which...what _is _your name?" Zexion jerked, a little startled by this request--why would the Superior want to know the name of a mere _incubus?_--but recovered enough to stutter out an answer.

"Ienzo, Superior."

"Ienzo...I see. Well, Ienzo...after the slayer La Monte mastered you, what happened?" Xemnas had lowered his voice, made it kinder, more cajoling...which was even worse than his cruelty.

"He...ah...he kept me prisoner...in his basement chambers..." stammered Zexion. "In a cell...he locked me up with silver chains...and...he kept me there for two months...having his way with me..."

He shuddered, remembering it...remembering it all...remembering _Demyx_...but no. He would not tell the Superior about Demyx. No matter how much it horrified him inside to lie to his Superior...he couldn't let Xemnas know. Because if Xemnas did, he would...

No. Zexion could not think about it. Couldn't think about what would happen to Demyx if Xemnas ever found out...

"And that is all? Explain how you escaped, Ienzo."

"I...ah...he...the slayer, Axel, he took on a student. A boy from the streets. And that's how I...I mean...one day, after the slayer was particularly cruel to me...the boy came in to see me. He seemed to be...ah...feeling...ah...sorry for me. I used that to my advantage. Using the powers I could...and my own acting skills...I manipulated him." It was becoming easier now, telling the story. He felt more confident; Demyx really _wasn't _essential to the narrative and that was a good thing, it'd make his lying seem less conspicuous. "I manipulated him into coming close to me...close enough for me to bite him. I stopped the transformation halfway, because I needed him to retain some of his intelligence...I took him to the slayer, and made the boy kill the slayer. And then...I left."

It was a rather lame way to conclude, but he couldn't think of anything better to say. He just continued pressing his head to the cold floor, and hoped that would be enough...enough to appease the Superior...

"So that's why you have a half-made servant...hmm. So, during your stay with the slayer...you never told him anything?" The Superior's tone was deep, as always, and unfathomable, as if he was lost in thought.

"No, Superior. Nothing. I assure you. I told him nothing, nothing about the coven, nothing about _you, _I promise you, I'm telling the truth..."

"And I suppose I shouldn't have any reason to doubt you," said the Superior, still sounding pensive.

"No, Superior, absolutely none," said Zexion, barely able to hide his mounting relief--he was going to get out of this, the Superior would believe him, would believe that he was faithful and then it would be fine and maybe he'd still get punished a little for having tried to seduce Axel in the first place, but nothing as bad as _death_...

"Then tell me, Ienzo..." And suddenly, the Superior's voice fell into a low, insidious hiss, enough to cause Zexion to jerk his head up and stare in cold shock at the Superior, looming tall and unfathomable above him--

"Tell me why I don't believe that's the entire truth."

And before Zexion could comprehend what was happening, a rough hand had snatched his collar in a strong grip, and yanked him forcibly to his feet. Head spinning from the shock of it all, Zexion squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look into the Superior's eyes, not wanting to see the cold fury he was _certain _would be etched on every line of the elder vampire's face...he _knew, _he _knew_...what an idiot he'd been, thinking he could hide everything...

"Look me in the eye, Ienzo." The Superior's voice was dark, heavy with disapproval.

"S-Superior..." But he couldn't protest--how could he disobey his Superior's orders? So, reluctantly, he eased his eyelids open again, his vision a blur at first but reassembling into the Superior's dark, furious visage...into the disapproving light burning in the elder vampire's deep orange eyes... Zexion felt his stomach lurch, and was surprised he hadn't fainted yet. He'd never, _ever _before been beheld with such cold fury. Not from Axel, whose anger was hot and all-consuming, so that it controlled _him _and made him a predictable being, susceptible to his volatile emotions.

No, Xemnas's fury was on a completely different level. It was cold as ice, sharp and penetrating, and he was in complete control of it. He could _use _his fury, instead of his fury using him. He could use it to punish Zexion beyond any punishment Zexion had ever received before. Axel, in his blazing anger, could hurt Zexion. But Xemnas, in his icy anger, could do so much more.

He could _break _Zexion, thoroughly, and so completely there would be no pieces left to pick up afterwards.

"You will tell me the truth now, Ienzo. The entire truth, and you will not hide anything from me. _Is that understood?"_

Somehow, Zexion managed to jerk his head into a nod, and feebly whisper out, "Y-yes Superior."

"Good," said Xemnas, sounding satisfied. "Although...for insurance's sake..."

Zexion realized, with a flash of horror, what the Superior was going to do a second before it happened. He'd never witnessed it before, only heard of this mysterious power the coven's leader, possessed--the power to reach into any vampire's mind and pull forth the _truth_--

He felt a heavy hand, cold as ice, press against his forehead, the fingers digging into the skin of his temples, most certainly leaving bruises behind. Zexion wanted to protest, wanted to make _some _noise, _some _tiny show of defiance--but his breath was stuck in his throat and he couldn't _think, _it almost felt like more than just the weight of the Superior's hand was pressing on him, that it was the full weight of the Superior's entire being, his entire dark disapproval--

Then, Zexion lost himself. Lost himself to pain, deeper than any pain he'd ever felt before, deeper than the pain of Axel's blows and intrusions, deeper than the pain of losing Demyx, the pain of having been betrayed by his two best friends--this was a pain that slashed deep into the core of his very being, forced unwilling memories to the surface of his mind--

As if in a haze, he saw...he saw Axel, smirking confidently at him that very first night, as Zexion bucked and struggled in a useless effort. More images, floating through the fog of pain, coming quicker now--Axel, slapping him hard, disapproval in his eyes--

A blonde slayer with a foolish but earnest smile, sitting on a stone bench beside Zexion, trying to hold a friendly conversation with him...then of Axel, fury burning in his countenance as he dragged Zexion away from Demyx...then of Demyx writhing in pleasure as Zexion serviced him...Demyx pinning Zexion to the bed, mastering him...Demyx apologizing to Zexion, kissing him...

Demyx holding a broken and beautiful butterfly, speaking words about _love, _his eyes burning with the same earnestness he always put into his words...

Demyx's hands around Zexion's, kissing him over and over again, drowning Zexion in a haze of pure pleasure...

Demyx tracing Zexion's coven tattoo with an idle finger, as Zexion spoke of Xemnas, his Superior...

Demyx, dangling from the grip of a powerful vampire with sadistically glinting purple eyes, while Zexion hid like the coward he was...

And then nothing. Then, Zexion fell to the floor with a muffled thump, mind ringing, pain still coursing through his every nerve...while the Superior loomed above him, expressionless, radiating cold disapproval.

The truth had been revealed. The entire truth. Zexion had nothing to hide, now. All of his sins, laid bare on his soul, and there was nothing he could do to retract them, now that the Superior had seen.

"I see," said Xemnas, his voice slow and flat--but his dark fury was more than evident. "So _that _is what you have been keeping from me, Ienzo...a human slayer. Imagine that. Looking at you, I wouldn't think that you were the type..."

Zexion said nothing to this, just squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, not bothering to hide the stinging wetness gathering behind his eyes. He could do nothing. Nothing but wait for his own death.

"But this is a rather...serendipitous discovery," continued the Superior, seemingly speaking to himself, pacing up and down the room now, his eyes to the ceiling. "Who would have thought it...? The same human..."

To Zexion, Xemnas's words were mere nonsense. Mere _delaying. _He was going to die anyway, so why wouldn't the Superior just get _on _with it...? He almost opened his mouth to say something of the ilk, but managed to contain himself in time.

And then the Superior his said, his voice low but sounding strangely pleased, "Go, then. Summon him." Zexion jerked his stare up, confused--was the Superior speaking to _him?_--but then saw that the Superior had summoned one of his familiars, a large black-winged bat, and had sent it flying out of the suddenly-opened door. So the Superior was calling another vampire, but why...? He didn't need any witnesses to kill Zexion, did he?

Zexion even voiced his confusion, before he could think to hold his tongue. "Superior--what are you--"

"Silence, Ienzo." The fury in the Superior's voice lashed at Zexion like a whip, and he fell appropriately quiet again, training his eyes to the floor and wondering, and fearing...

To his surprise, the Superior continued to speak, sounding pensive and delighted at the same time. "Ienzo, I really must thank you for the peek into your mind. It's given me an...inspiration...as to how to punish you."

"Superior...?" Zexion dared to look up, giving the Superior a querying look, but Xemnas just laughed it off with a slow, deep, insidious laugh.

"You'll see, Ienzo. Oh, you'll see..."

* * *

To say that Demyx was "uncomfortable" would be an understatement.

He was...well, he was aching all over, the tight ropes digging into his skin and chafing quite uncomfortably. His legs felt were numb and heavy as leaden logs, and his body was beginning to ache from being bound in the same position for so long.

Not to mention...

He needed to _pee._

It was a stupid realization, but it was all _true. _Demyx needed to go the bathroom some time soon, or...well, he didn't like the thought of peeing in his pants, not here, not how. Because then he'd be sitting here stewing in his own piss, which was not a pleasant thought at all. But still...the urge was near overpowering. He doubted that he'd get a reprieve anytime soon, because no one had come for him yet and anyway, vampires didn't need to pee. Did they even have toilets in this...this _here_...wherever this was?

Just as Demyx was seriously beginning to contemplate, well, going right then and there...the door to the chamber burst open.

"Hey! _Finally, _someone's come! What're you all gonna do with me, why don't you tell me now 'cause I really, _really, _need to use--"

"Silence," said Saix, his voice as cool and dispassionate as always. Demyx glared up at the blue-haired...not-vampire not-human...who merely gave him a bored glance. But then Demyx's indignity gave way to surprise, when Saix approached him with two steps and sliced the ropes binding Demyx with a single motion of his hand.

"Whoa--huh? What? Hey!" cried Demyx, staring in dumbstruck surprise as the ropes fell like limp snakes to the floor around him. Inertia kept him glued firmly to the chair, still in the same position he'd been bound in for the past...who-knows-how-many hours.

"Get up," said Saix, still sounding utterly disinterested in the proceedings. Then, before Demyx could protest, Saix's hand shot out and tightened around Demyx's forearm, jerking the slayer to his feet with startling strength. Demyx stumbled as pins and needles shot through his numb legs, barely able to keep his balance--but Saix didn't care, just continuing to jerk Demyx along after him while Demyx protested loudly.

"Hey--seriously--where the hell are you taking me--? The bathroom? Huh? 'Cause I _really _gotta go--"

Saix remained silent the entire time, to the point where Demyx felt that he was railing at a wall. A wall that was still dragging him along, grip as tight and unmerciful as a metal vice. Demyx was sure that Saix was leaving bruises, but doubted that Saix cared--he only seemed to care about taking Demyx wherever the hell they were going. Demyx didn't know where. It seemed to him that they were heading down yards of long, winding dark hallways, passing no one, the air cold and whispering against Demyx's face.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of silence from Saix and ranting from Demyx, the blue-haird man paused before a door.

"Bathroom?" said Demyx, though this was a foolish thought. No way Saix would be considerate enough to take Demyx to the bathroom of all places...no doubt, there was something dark, and dangerous, lurking behind the door...

...like Xaldin, maybe. After all, Xaldin hadn't started "playing" with Demyx yet...

The instant the thought struck him, Demyx began contemplating ways to escape, his mind working rapid fire--but there was nothing he could do about Saix's pincer grip around his arm. So he could do nothing to stop Saix when Saix undid the latch on the door--and with a rough push shoved Demyx straight into the room.

Demyx almost fell over, still unaccustomed to walking on his own, due to the pins and needles still shrieking their way up his legs. He managed to regain his balance on time, throwing his arm out to catch himself on the wall, at the same time that he heard the door slam shut behind him. So he was alone in here...alone, with only--only a vampire for company. A vampire that was probably Xaldin, ready to play with his newest toy...

Heart thudding a staccato against his rib cage, barely daring to breathe, Demyx slowly lifted his gaze from the floor. What he saw made his heart stop dead with a cold jolt, and him to take a step backward, mind singing with surprise.

"Zexy...?"

* * *

Zexion hadn't recognized the sea-salt and ocean-breeze scent at first, as it had been masked by Saix's heavy (and putrid, in Zexion's opinion) musk. So he'd been completely caught off guard when the door to the Superior's office opened--and Demyx came stumbling in.

It had to be Demyx. No one else. He would never be able to mistake that messy blonde hair, the wide blue eyes, the earnestness in the boyish features. Demyx, bruised and covered with dried blood, but Demyx nonetheless--standing foolishly before the door and looking as startled as Zexion felt.

"Zexy...?" he'd said when he had entered, his eyes widening as he took in Zexion standing near the back of the room (though further behind him was the Superior, leaning on the very wall). "Zexy...what are you...what is...oh damn it, Zexion, I'm so _glad_ to--"

And before Zexion could stop Demyx, the blonde slayer had launched straight at Zexion, barreling with a speed that the vampire hadn't known he possessed, and threw his arms around Zexion's neck.

Zexion reacted instantly to that, driving his knee into Demyx's stomach and stumbling back, trying to throw the slayer's heavy, choking arms off of him--but despite the knee to the stomach, Demyx didn't move, but clung even more obstinately, burying his face into the crook of Zexion's neck. From this position, Zexion could feel all of Demyx--all of Demyx's heavy warmth, the softness of Demyx's hair tickling Zexion's cheek--

_And _Demyx's blood. The smell of the blood, throbbing regularly through the slayer's veins with each beat of his heart...

"Stop it, Demyx! Get off of me!" snarled Zexion, struggling again to throw Demyx's arms off, but failing. He could barely think, not when Demyx was so _close _to him--when the intoxicating scent of Demyx's blood was making him feel lightheaded-- "Get _off, _damn it!"

"Zexion, oh, Zexion, Zexy," groaned Demyx over and over again. It almost sounded like he was sobbing, but Zexion didn't think so because he didn't feel anything wet, like tears. "Zexy...I didn't think you'd come, seriously, I thought you hated me--"

"Please, get _off," _hissed Zexion, his hands rising to Demyx's wrists and again trying to pry them off, but it was no use...Zexion, having always lacked physical strength, just didn't have it in him to pull Demyx's oppressive weight away from him. Behind him, he could hear the Superior's low chuckles, and that just made the situation even worse... "Get the hell off of me! I'll be more than happy to catch up with you when you get off. Just get _off!"_

Demyx finally seemed to get the picture, slowly lifting his face from Zexion's shoulder, his arms falling back down to his sides. When Demyx looked back at Zexion, Zexion couldn't help but take a step back in cold shock--shock at the hurt shimmering in Demyx's bright blue eyes.

"Demyx..." he said quietly, realizing with a jolt what Demyx had construed Zexion's words and actions as meaning.

But then the hurt look was gone, replaced by a cold stoicity that nonetheless didn't mask the lingering misery in Demyx's eyes. When Demyx spoke, his voice was cold, but hid a faint quaver. "Oh, but of course. I shouldn't get my hopes up. Of course you hate me still. I'm sorry about that, Zexion."

"Demyx--what are you--I _don't _hate you," protested Zexion, struggling to block out the smell of Demyx's blood--but it was so _inviting. _He hadn't had a meal since that woman on the ship, and now he realized he was paying the price. He wanted to tell Demyx to run, but the words were stuck in his throat, and for a moment he was unable to think of anything...only of the blood, so thick and lovely and red, pulsing and pulsing through Demyx's veins...

"It's all right, Zexion. I shouldn't have been dumb enough to think I was in love with you in the first place," continued Demyx, still in that cold-but-quavering voice. "You were right, back then in the park...I was just confused. Confused and stupid. Stupid. That's just the way I am, isn't it? I _know _you think I'm the biggest idiot in the entire universe. I _know _it."

"I don't--!" protested Zexion, forcing himself to breathe so he could speak. The instant he did he wished he hadn't. The smell of Demyx's blood assaulted him again, causing him to take an unconscious step closer, and then another...

"That's good, Ienzo." For the first time, the Superior spoke, his voice deep with morbid satisfaction. "Eat your fill. Am I not a considerate Superior, allowing you a feast such as _this_...?"

Zexion grit his teeth, resolving to block out anything the Superior said. But the words continued ringing in his head, echoing dully..._Eat your fill...a feast such as this_...he knew what the Superior was doing. What Zexion's punishment would be.

_He _would not die. Demyx would--by his hand.

_No, damn it. No, stop, don't. It's Demyx, you can't eat him! He's _not _food! _Furious thoughts coursed through Zexion's mind, but they were weak, pathetic whimpers when compared to the Superior's low and silky voice, egging him on...

"Come, Ienzo. Eat. I know you are hungry. Your meal is waiting for you. Won't you eat...?"

Demyx, for his part, was now staring wide-eyed at the Superior, looking almost as if he was seeing a ghost. No, not a ghost...but a man he'd before seen only in portraits and sketches in history books...a man who had walked the Earth at the time of Napoleon and...

And was most definitely not a vampire. At least in Demyx's schema.

"Zexion..." said Demyx, his voice small and strained. "Who is this?"

"The Superior," mumbled Zexion, lowering his head. How else could he explain it...? "Xemnas."

"A pleasure to meet you, Demyx," said Xemnas, an ironic smile on his face, his eyes glinting with a sadistically pleased light. "Ienzo certainly thinks about you...quite a _deal. _He's very fixated on you, did you know that? Something about your _blood _must excite him..."

"Huh? What? Who--Ienzo?" Demyx glanced wildly around, looking so confused and lost that Zexion almost just wanted to...wanted to return the hug that Demyx had initiated, wanted to tell Demyx that it was all okay and he was going to deal with everything, that Demyx needn't worry...but it was a foolish urge. He couldn't. Zexion knew he wouldn't be able to control his instincts if he did that. He had to hold back, had to try his hardest to block out the scent of the blood circulating through Demyx's body, inviting him...

"Demyx," said Zexion quietly. "Please, Demyx. Listen to me--get out of here. Run. Get as far away from me as possible."

"What!" Demyx's attention snapped back to Zexion, and he looked offended now. "Oh, _I _see what this is. You hate me now, so--"

"I _don't _hate you, you idiot!" snarled Zexion, now becoming irritated at how _obtuse _Demyx was being. Demyx knew vampires...surely he must be able to see the raging bloodlust in Zexion's eyes, the way that Zexion was barely managing to hold back from springing at Demyx and sinking his fangs into the vein quivering so delightfully on the slayer's neck... "Just get out of here! Run! Before I eat you, damn it!"

"Oh, so now you wanna _eat _me?" More rage entered Demyx's voice, matching Zexion's. "What was all that about me _not _being 'meat'? Bunch of bullcrap, I guess, like _everything_--"

Demyx's rage was beginning to terrify Zexion. He'd never..._never_...seen Demyx so angry before. Never. And worse, all of that anger, all of that disapproval, was directed straight at Zexion, piercing the incubus like a burning arrow. Zexion just didn't know what to do, what to say, to make Demyx's rage abate...to return Demyx to the the cheerful, smiling boy that Zexion knew. Nothing he said could work anymore; it was impossible to think of the right words when his every instinct was raging for that blood, the rich sweet blood beneath Demyx's skin. Everything he said, Demyx would just misconstrue...

"Eat him, Ienzo." The Superior's voice cut through Zexion's panicked thoughts, and against his will Zexion turned to face the Superior--to see the disapproval now shining in the elder vampire's orange eyes. "Do not be so ungrateful. I've taken the time to bring you a treat, and you won't even consume it?"

"S-Superior..." whispered Zexion. He couldn't block out the Superior's words, the Superior's orders...he had to..._had _to...had to...

But he _couldn't! _It was Demyx. He could not eat Demyx. He would repeat this over and over again in his mind until it overpowered the Superior's low, insidious words. _Eat him. I can't! It's Demyx. I can't eat him. I can't. Eat him. You must. I can't!_

"Eat him, Ienzo. Eat the slayer. You know you want to."

"Yeah, go the hell ahead and eat me! See if I give a shit, Zexion! Huh? I'm _waiting!"_

_No. Not Demyx. I can't eat him. Not Demyx._

No matter what the Superior said. No matter what the Superior commanded him. No matter the punishment he would receive. He had come all this way, in search of Demyx. He would _not _give in to his instincts at this last second and devour Demyx like a thoughtless animal. He was better than that, different...stronger... He had _said _to Demyx that Demyx was not meat. Now was the time to test that.

It was hard, though...so hard when the Superior's voice, so silky and cajoling, was ringing in his ears...so hard when the scent of Demyx's blood pulled at him like a lure, made him step closer even as he tried to pull himself back...hating himself, fearing himself, but moving closer anyway, while Demyx's issued defiant challenges and the Superior continued ordering him, "Eat him, Ienzo. Eat the little human..."

It was getting too much for Zexion to bear. He was almost upon Demyx now--all he would have to do was spring, bear Demyx down to the ground with the element of surprise, and then bite Demyx where the vein on his neck twitched so invitingly. And then...he'd be able to lap up all the blood, all of Demyx's blood, hot and steaming and fresh and gushing out, staining Demyx's pale neck and his shirt, sating his burning hunger...

There was fear in Demyx's eyes now, even as outwardly he continued to put on a show of defiance, continuing snapping, "C'mon, Zexy, what're you waiting for? Eat me up!" But he had started backing off now, as Zexion approached, and he couldn't hide the way his eyes had widened, ever-so-slightly...

_Stop! _screamed Zexion's conscience, or as much conscience as _he _could claim to have. But the ravening hunger within him, and the Superior's voice behind him, were stronger than that tiny, quavering gasp, and against his will he obeyed, taking another step...and another...and another...until he'd backed Demyx into a corner. Now Demyx was making no effort at putting on a rebellious show, instead breathing hard and pressing himself further against the cold concrete wall, his eyes wide.

"Zexy--Zexy--c'mon, Zexy, you don't _mean _it, I mean, you must hate me, I get that, but you don't wanna eat me, do you? _Do you?"_

_I don't._

And with a flash, he realized what to do.

Just as Xemnas's voice rose to a shouted order, "_Do it, Ienzo!" _and Demyx fell silent, a resigned looking coming to his eyes--Zexion fell to his knees, took a deep breath, and sank his claws into his forearms.

Instantly, the overpowering, intoxicating smell of Demyx's blood was gone--no, not gone, but just overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by another scent, darker and heavier than Demyx's sea-breeze presence, a smell of blood, and darkness, of bitterness with a trace of something light and sweet, like violets--

Zexion's own scent. His own blood.

He was surprised he hadn't thought of it sooner. The instant he'd done it, pierced his skin with his claws and watched the blood, dark and red, flowing out, staining his shirt sleeves, the all-consuming hunger had vanished. Now, he was absorbed in the smell of his own blood--a smell that repulsed him, food-wise. Sweet as humans' scents might be, vampires loathed above all the smell of their _own _blood. No one knew why that was, but there was just something, some primal instinct, within every vampire that caused them to recoil at the heavy dark scents of their own unholy blood.

His head cleared now of the fuzz of hunger, Zexion looked up, meeting Demyx's shocked gaze. He even managed a slight, ironic little smile which Demyx only returned by gaping. Behind him, he heard the Superior hiss in disapproval, but Zexion found--to his surprise--that he no longer cared what the Superior thought.

It was starting to hurt, where he'd pierced the skin and sent rivulets of blood running down his pale skin, but the pain didn't bother Zexion. He'd felt worse...much worse...would probably be _feeling _worse after Xemnas punished for that...but who cared, that was all in the future--for now, he was safe, he _hadn't _killed Demyx...

"Zexy..." whispered Demyx, staring down at Zexion as if he had never truly _seen _Zexion before. "Zexion...what did you..."

"So _that's _what you've chosen to do, is it, Ienzo?" The Superior's voice behind Zexion, dark with disapproval, startled Zexion out of his daze, and he whipped around to face the Superior, despite not wanting see Xemnas's anger. Xemnas remained standing in the very back of the room, his expression unreadable--but a palpable anger shining in his eyes.

"Superior..." he whispered, straightening up and wiping some of the blood off his arm with a somewhat nervous gesture, seeing how bright the red stain was against his own pale skin. Despite himself, he couldn't stop trembling--he was going to get punished for this, punished beyond any punishment he'd ever received before. And regardless of his previous bravado...

...he _didn't _want that.

"So you don't wish to eat _now," _continued the Superior, still in that tone dripping with heavy disapproval. "Never mind that. You're hungry, Ienzo. I can see that. You will want to eat...eventually. You will give in to your hunger. No vampire can resist for long."

"Superior...?" This time, Zexion's tone was querying, and he cast the Superior a nervous look--especially as the Superior moved away from the wall, walking in his slow, graceful manner almost like gliding, to the door.

"Locked in a room with a human, Ienzo," said Xemnas, and now when he spoke a note of insidious delight had slipped into his voice. "Every vampire's dream situation, is it not...?"

And with that, he shut the door behind him, with the very audible sound of the padlock clicking. Zexion stared after where Xemnas had left for a long time, realization slowly dawning on him. And he knew from a part of his being that transcended everything--all feeling, all instinct, all emotion, all reason--that Xemnas was right. The distraction with his own blood was just that--a distraction. Eventually, the lure of Demyx's blood, and the strength of his own hunger, would overcome the repulsive smell of his own blood, and...

He didn't want to think about it. So he just stood there, staring at the door, trying not to think of Demyx...Demyx still huddled in the corner, watching him wide-eyed, speechless...Demyx, whom Zexion had come all this way--had _killed_--for. And now that he was here, with Demyx...

He just didn't know what to say. There were too many thoughts running through his mind, and he couldn't put a single one of them into words.

* * *

Ha ha...no, Kadaj's appearance isn't going to mean that Sephiroth will show up. It was just a fun random thing, because of my abiding love for the SHM. So don't expect more on the Sephiroth tangent.

The next chapter, "Clear", is my favorite chapter so far and also what I feel is the most intensely Zemyx-y one too. It contains the first really Zemyx sex scene I've written for this story (you can't count chapter five...), and is just, well, you'll see. Here's the preview:

__

He pressed slowly in the kiss, not wanting to miss a single second of--of this. Of _Demyx. _Of Demyx's beautiful sea-salt, ocean-breeze scent, overwhelming him, but in a different way than before. A different hunger, stirring in a different place. His hands buried into Demyx's hair, while Demyx's hands tightened around Zexion's waist, and together they ravished each other's mouths, drinking in each other's flavors, Zexion lost in a din of sensations he couldn't quite comprehend but knew he enjoyed as Demyx's tongue moved within his mouth.

See? Zemyx goodness. And yes, I realize I've been neglecting Roxas...but he'll make a glorious comeback in chapter sixteen, that I promise.

Remember to send a review after you read!


	15. Clear

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_15. Clear_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Happy new year, everyone, and as a gift I come with chapter fifteen of _Tainted But Beautiful! _Yay, we're halfway through the whole story! I know you're all excited for the Zemyx sex scene in this chapter...and it also explains, for anyone who's curious, why all the vampires call Zexion "Ienzo".

I don't usually recommend listening for my stories, but I highly recommend for this chapter at least "Starlight", by Muse. It served as a major inspiration for the content of the chapter overall, and _especially _the sex scene. Which might explain why the sex scene's so...odd. Not odd as in kinky, but just odd as in odd. Hopefully it's not badly written, though.

On with the story~!

* * *

Demyx supposed he should be happy to be seeing Zexion again. But he...

He was more confused than anything. He didn't know what to think about--about _everything. _About the...the "Superior", who looked _exactly _like Xemnas from the history books--hell, Zexion had even _called _him "Xemnas"! And then about Zexion advancing towards him, unmistakable bloodlust burning in his eyes...but then of Zexion stabbing himself with his claws, drawing his own blood in a seeming effort to sever his attraction to Demyx's. And then...

Everything was just so...so _confusing. _Everything. Xemnas, what was Xemnas doing here, and what had he called Zexion, "Ienzo"? But why? It made no sense to Demyx, and he just didn't want to think about it anymore. Thinking made his head hurt, especially since he was still feeling sluggish, his thoughts still refusing to gather properly, because of the blow to the head Xaldin had dealt him.

So Demyx had settled for sitting. His legs were still too numb to stand, properly, anyway. He perched on the edge of the bed in the room, looking around--trying to look at _everything _but the vampire leaning against the opposite wall, his eyes closed and arms folded, seemingly ignoring Demyx as well. That was fine by Demyx. He didn't have to look at Zexion, either. He just looked at everything else, at the blank concrete walls, at the simple metal-frame bed shoved against one wall. The room seemed to be some sort of quarters, but had a rarely-used feel to it. All was silent, save the steady hum of an air conditioner.

It was cold, and now Demyx was beginning to feel the icy chill in the air through his thin shirt. He'd started becoming aware of his injuries, too...of the bruises on his face, the lump on the back of his head...the multiple half-healed cuts and scrapes all over his body. Xaldin had obviously not bothered treating him after their fight, and now...well, his injuries were aching, crying out for attention.

Demyx sighed; the first noise he'd issued since the--the vampire..._Xemnas?_...had left. Zexion's attention seemed to have been caught by Demyx's sigh, as he jerked his head somewhat in Demyx's direction, but looked back to the floor again. Demyx hid another sigh, trying to tear his eyes away from Zexion...

But failing. He couldn't help it--Zexion was easily the most interesting thing in the room, at least more interesting than just staring at his own injuries. Not that Zexion didn't have injuries of his own, either. His face and neck were covered with bandages, but the ones on his neck didn't completely hide the bruises and hickeys standing out starkly against his pale skin. Zexion's hair was also far messier than Demyx had ever seen it, the slate-blue strands now falling into both his eyes. His clothes, unlike the rest of him, seemed to be in relatively good condition, though bright spots of blood were staining the sleeves of his white oxford shirt, reminding Demyx of what Zexion had done...

Demyx couldn't wrap his mind around it. Here Zexion had been telling him in a sharp voice, "Run away before I eat you!", but then he'd injured himself just so he wouldn't have to eat Demyx. How weird...but since when did anything Zexion did make sense?

No, that was wrong. Everything Zexion did made sense, in a strange and insidious way. Like how Zexion had behaved to Demyx, alternating between broken innonence, confident seduction, and snarling anger--that had all been a trap to get Demyx to...to make Demyx think that he'd fallen in love with Zexion. To make Demyx feel _sorry _for Zexion, only in the end for Zexion to betray him. That was all...he was just a game to Zexion, a game that now had lost all its use and that was why Zexion had wanted to eat him.

His head was beginning to throb from too much thinking. Trying to contain another discontent sigh, Demyx flopped back on the bed and hoped to fall asleep. Although, he thought darkly, _sleep _probably wasn't such a good idea when you were locked in a room with a hungry vampire...

* * *

"Um...hey."

Zexion jerked out of his thoughts, startled by the sound of Demyx's voice. They'd remained in silence for...for how long, he didn't know and didn't care. All that mattered to Zexion was simply losing himself in his mind, inhaling the smell of his own blood whenever Demyx's scent became too much to bear. It was best for both of them, if they remained silent and unmoving--and on opposite sides of the room.

Zexion didn't reply at first. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to get in a conversation with Demyx. Not now...Zexion would have to find a way out of here and someone to feed on before being able to speak coherently with Demyx..._without _having to worry about wanting to suck Demyx's blood. He hoped that Demyx would understand what the silence meant, and not push him further.

But Demyx, annoyingly enough, went on. "Um...hey. Zexion. Um. Hey. Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me, Zexion. Or Ienzo. Is that your name?"

Zexion sighed; Demyx was too annoying. He would _have _to answer. _Fine, don't blame me if I kill you, then! _he thought, but this was a random facetious thought and he quickly banished it. "What do _you _think?"

"I dunno. I don't know _what _to think anymore, as a matter of fact. I was hoping you'd have answers, Zexion. Or Ienzo. Whatever."

Demyx sounded frustrated, but Zexion supposed that was only natural. After all...Zexion hadn't forgotten their conversation in the park. Not the bit about "love", but about Xemnas...the Superior. As always when he started thinking about the Superior, Zexion's hands rose unconsciously to the crook of his neck, where the symbol of his coven was etched...

"I don't know if I do have answers."

"Well, maybe you can start with something simple." Demyx's tone was gentle, cajoling--but with a level of distrust to it, too. It pained Zexion, to hear that in Demyx's voice...Demyx who had once been so kind and trusting, so naive and easily swayed...

It was clear that Demyx had changed. Zexion wasn't sure if he liked this change or not.

"Simple...?" He lifted his head, somewhat, so that Demyx's legs dangling over the edge of the bed became visible. It seemed that Demyx had sat up again, and was surveying Zexion intently...though Zexion wouldn't look up to see. "And you mean...?"

"Your name, for one thing. What the hell _is _it? 'Zexion', or 'Ienzo'?" A sullen note had slipped into Demyx's voice, which comforted Zexion a bit; this was more familiar.

Since he saw no way out of this, he decided to answer--truthfully. "Ienzo is my real name."

"Then why'd you make me call you 'Zexion'?" said Demyx, the sulkiness morphing into a miffed tone. Even better...Zexion could deal with this childishly huffing Demyx. _Not _the disapproving, distrusting Demyx...

"Pureblood vampires, as a general rule, do not reveal their real names to anyone--human or vampire--outside their coven," replied Zexion flatly, deciding to teach Demyx what Axel apparently never had. There was no harm in it; Demyx would never be able to use the information against him. That he was sure of.

And besides...Demyx wasn't exactly an _enemy_, now, was he?

"Why?" So full of questions. That was good, though; at least Zexion could answer _these _questions.

"If a slayer...or any other vampire, for that matter...knows a vampire's real name...he can use it against the vampire. There are...spells of controlling. Uncovering a pureblood's true name is one way of mastering him," explained Zexion, wincing inside when he said the word _mastering. _Axel's memory was still too recent, too painful...

Idly, he wondered what Demyx would think if he found out what Zexion had done to Axel...to Roxas...

"Does that mean you trust me, then?" Zexion jerked up, surprised, meeting Demyx's eyes for the first time. Demyx's expression was serious, his mouth set in a firm line of conviction. "If you're willing to tell me your real name. Does that mean you trust me?"

"Hardly," replied Zexion with a scoff, turning away from Demyx and trying to pretend that he'd made the gesture out of irritation, not because he was..._disturbed_...by the fierce quality to Demyx's eyes. "There's just no point in hiding it anymore, after you heard the Superior call me by my true name..."

"Oh." Demyx sounded disappointed, and Zexion almost turned back to face the slayer again--but managed to hold himself in check. "Of course. I see. Of course you don't trust me. Zexion or Ienzo or whatever it is you want me to call you now. You hate me, don't you?"

"What?" Zexion gave way to his instincts--he turned to face Demyx, startled, no longer bothering to maintain the uninterested facade. "N-no! That's not true, Demyx--"

"Yeah, it is," replied Demyx, his tone bitter, his expression hard. "Isn't it? Didn't you tell me you hated me, when I said--when I told you--with the butterfly--"

"No!" cried Zexion, shaking his head, ignoring the hair that flew into his eyes. "I didn't...I didn't feel for you the same way that you did for me...I still don't...but that doesn't have to mean I _hate _you. I can like you, without liking you in _that _way."

Damn it, Demyx the simplistic idiot. Really, Zexion should have been expecting this...

"Okay, maybe that doesn't count," conceded Demyx, jerking his shoulder in a shrug. "But you can't deny it...the _other _time. When--when Xaldin was kidnapping me. You didn't come to help me. Why's that? It must be because you _hate _me, right? I bet you were laughing your ass off, back there in the alley, while I was dangling up there scared out of my wits--"

"_No!" _Zexion didn't even know what he was saying anymore, and he didn't care. He just had to--_had _to--make Demyx see, had to make him _understand_--just what the hell was Demyx saying, he didn't know, but it was scaring the hell out of him. "That's not--that isn't true! Demyx, I _don't _hate you! And I didn't help you because I hated you. I was...I was trying to cloak my presence from Xaldin, _please, _youv'e got to understand, Demyx, please..."

"Wow, you've even got an excuse cooked up for me," said Demyx, still in that horrible bitter tone, a humorless smirk twisting his features. "But Zexion, as dumb as you might think I am, I'm not so stupid I'd fall for _that..._I mean, why would you even want to hide from Xaldin in the first place? He's part of your coven, isn't he? He's your _comrade. _You shouldn't have to hide from him."

"I--you don't understand!" shouted Zexion, unable to keep his rising desperation from his voice. He'd never seen Demyx like this before...so bitter and cold...this wasn't _Demyx, _Demyx who smiled and laugh and, above all else, _forgave. _He'd thought that Demyx would have forgiven him the instant he cleared up things about what had happened that night. He didn't think that Demyx would...would do _this. _"I didn't want to return, then. If...if Xaldin had found me, I would have been taken back to the coven. And punished. Punished for...for having allowed myself to get captured."

"That's a stupid reason to punish anyone for anything," snapped Demyx, and for a moment Zexion hoped that Demyx's old self--always so kind and caring, and concerned with justice--had returned. But then Demyx continued, in as bitter a tone as before, "I don't believe it. Nope. You gotta lie better than that, Zexion, Ienzo, whichever you prefer."

"I'm not _lying," _gasped Zexion, feeling for all the world like he was drowning. Not in Demyx's intoxicating scent, but in...in a dark sea of misgivings and misunderstandings, a dark sea of Demyx's anger and distrust. He hadn't expected this. Never in a million years. He hadn't expected his and Demyx's reunion to be like _this_...he'd expected it to be happy, for Demyx to thank Zexion in his cheerful voice like sunlight sparkling on the sea, to thank Zexion for doing everything he'd done just for Demyx's sake...

He hadn't expected all of this...this..._ingratitude! _Yes, that was right, it couldn't be anything but ingratitude. Demyx was being a flaming ingrate, mocking of all of Zexion's desperate efforts like _this. _Why had Zexion half-turned Axel's student? Why had he killed Axel? Why had he taken a ship all the way North, why had he waited impatiently for the Northern Coven to reach a decision, why had he even tolerated being _betrayed?_

The answer was simple: For Demyx.

All of that for Demyx's sake. All of that torment, all of the shit and the pain and _everything. _He'd done so much, struggled so hard to be where he was now, standing before Demyx...

And instead of gratitude, he'd instead received bitterness and snark. It was enough to make Zexion choke on the indignity of it all.

Choke, he didn't. But he felt his knees begin to tremble, felt his limbs go weak, his head spin and lurch dangerously. He was surprised he was even still standing, surprised he could even still draw breath (though why, he didn't know--it was merely wafting more of Demyx's hideously inviting scent in his direction), given the enormous lump now clogging his throat. Surprised he could even still stare in broken hurt at Demyx, even as his vision blurred and a horrible stinging sensation began to build behind his eyelids...

"Liar, liar," sang Demyx, the cruel notes of his voice piercing like icy arrows through Zexion's heart. Numbly, Zexion remembered once asking Demyx to make music for his sake...but he'd never expected _this. _This mocking, childish song, the harsh words sung in a heart-breakingly beautiful and clear voice. "Pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire..."

Zexion wanted to collapse right then and there, collapse and never rise again. Hell, he'd "lived" for almost a century, wasn't that enough? But he didn't. He did sink to his knees, his trembling legs no longer able to support his weight, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps that were beginning to sound more and more like sobs. The stinging wetness behind his eyes was becoming too much to bear, so he blinked to clear it--only to feel something hot and wet roll down his cheeks.

_The hell? _He was..._crying? _He couldn't be..._that_...affected by Demyx's lack of gratitude, could he? But he couldn't stop, no matter how much he raged and snarled at himself, Who cares, it's just _Demyx _for fuck's sake! He couldn't stop shaking and probably looking like the biggest idiot in the world, just on his knees and crying and not doing anything about it, not even trying to wipe his tears off because he _still _couldn't believe what was happening--

"Nah nah nah nah..." Demyx had been singing, but suddenly his voice changed, acquiring a strong tinge of concern. Became more _familiar. _"Zexion--hey, Zexy--oh, _shit! _Hey, hey, don't cry--"

"Damn it, you bastard. Demyx, you bastard, you bastard, you _bastard," _repeated Zexion over and over again, senselessly, seizing for something to anchor on, to prevent himself from drowning in the sea of his ignominous crying. _That _something, pathetically enough, was calling Demyx a "bastard".

_Well, he __is__, _thought a disgruntled part of the incubus.

Then, before Zexion could figure out what was happening, a pair of arms had been thrown over his neck, and he was pulled into a tight, suffocating hug. Zexion gasped, startled by the suddenness of the gesture, and reminded for a flash of that incident earlier, when Demyx had first thrown himself at Zexion and wailed about how wonderful it was to see Zexion again...and Zexion had rudely reacted by _kicking _Demyx and snarling at him.

No wonder Demyx was angry...

Demyx wasn't angry now, though. He was still holding Zexion tightly, burying Zexion's face into his shirt and not seeming to mind that Zexion was staining it with his tears. It felt..._nice_...like this. Not because Zexion was so close to potential food, but...but he was quite sure he'd never been held or comforted like this before in all his life...maybe _before, _in the other life...but it had been so long ago that he could no longer remember how it felt, to be held in strong, warm, arms while a comforting hand patted him on the back, and a soft voice, sweet like music, whispered apologies and kind words into his ear...

For a moment--just a moment, at the very least--Zexion allowed himself to give in. Give in to the overwhelming desire to just be _held, _in Demyx's powerful but gentle grip, to just bury his face into Demyx's chest and clutch the fabric of Demyx's shirt with his claws, as he shook from sobs and Demyx continued to comfort him...

"It's okay, Zexy. Don't cry. I'm sorry, I really am, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for being such a--such a--_bastard_. Please don't cry..."

Demyx was rocking him now, back and forth, with a gentle rhythm that matched the song he'd started humming, a wordless song that sounded like a lullaby. Zexion huddled closer to Demyx, wanting more of the slayer's body warmth, a warmth that invigorated the vampire's death-cold limbs and incited a deep longing somewhere in the hollow of his chest where his heart was frozen like ice...a longing for more than blood, but for warmth of his own...

...to be alive...

"Shh, Zexion. No more crying, okay? I'm sorry. I see now...you're telling the truth. You've got to be." Zexion wasn't sure if Demyx was just trying to appease him, or really meant what he was saying...but did it even matter? Nothing mattered to Zexion anymore, save Demyx's delicious warmth...a warmth that, Zexion realized to his surprise, had been enough to even dry up Zexion's remaining tears. Demyx's hands had risen to the back of Zexion's neck now, where they began teasing the delicate slate-blue hairs with a gentleness that sent shivers down Zexion's spine.

"D...Demyx..." choked out Zexion, when he trusted himself enough to speak with only a minimal quaver to his voice. Demyx drew Zexion closer to him, and Zexion had to momentarily stop breathing so he wouldn't inhale the overpowering smell of Demyx's blood...yes, he couldn't forget; no matter how wonderful Demyx's warmth was, he was still human and Zexion was still a vampire--a _hungry _vampire.

He wanted to warn Demyx to be careful--to not bring him closer--but wasn't sure how to if he wasn't breathing. Demyx rendered any response unnecessary, though, when he tilted Zexion's chin up with one finger and kissed the vampire, very gently, right on the lips.

"What is it, Zexy?" said Demyx, his voice soft when he pulled away, a gentle smile on his face. It was hard to believe that he'd been so...so cruel before, so callous and mocking...no, Zexion didn't want to think about it. Not about that. Now, he only wanted to think about here and now, about Demyx's beautiful warmth and his kind words...

"I..." Zexion began, struggling to speak without inhaling Demyx's scent; easier said than done. "I...Demyx, I...I was...I was searching for you...all that time and I..."

"Well, you found me, didn't I?" said Demyx with a little laugh, cutting off Zexion with another sweet kiss. Zexion almost leaned further into the kiss, almost made it deeper from his desire to taste _more _of Demyx--more of Demyx's clean sea-breeze scent--but managed to hold back. He _knew _he would never be able to contain his instincts if that happened.

"I did...I finally did. After everything...I found you." Zexion sighed, and rested his chin on Demyx's shoulder, content to just slump in Demyx's strong grip. "So much, I did so much, you don't even know...all for your sake."

"Ha, really? Am I really worth that much? Even to you?" When Zexion looked up at Demyx again, he saw that the slayer was smiling, an almost self-deprecatory light to his eyes.

"You think you wouldn't be?" replied Zexion in a low murmur, burying his face into Demyx's shirt again. Demyx responded to the gesture by moving one hand down to Zexion's back again, where it absently started rubbing circles through the fabric of Zexion's shirt, causing Zexion to shiver again for reasons he didn't quite understand. The other hand continued teasing the strands of hair at the base of Zexion's neck.

"Well, I don't know...I didn't think you liked me much..." said Demyx, now sounding awkward. "I mean..."

"I never said I didn't like you, Demyx. I only ever said I didn't _love _you," replied Zexion, starting to become annoyed at Demyx's obtuseness when it came to this subject. Well, at the very least Demyx wasn't snapping in that bitter tone anymore. Zexion would gladly take Demyx's whining over Demyx's harshness, any day.

"Gee, _thanks," _grumbled Demyx, sounding sullen. "That's the meanest compliment I've ever been paid, and believe me Zexy when I say I've been paid a _lot _of pretty mean compliments."

"I didn't intend for it to be mean," mumbled Zexion, nuzzling closer to Demyx's chest, where he could feel the slayer's heart beating, pumping his blood regularly through his veins...but no, he couldn't think about _that. _He would not. He had to hold his instincts in check, for Demyx's sake...

"Well, it _is. _You _know _that I love you, Zexy."

Zexion jerked, startled, at the admission--the first time Demyx had brought up his feelings after the night with the butterfly. Not that there had been many other "times" after that, but still...he'd thought Demyx would just drop that subject and bury it completely, as Zexion had resolved to do. Nothing good could come from Demyx's lust-mistaken-for-love, this Zexion knew, and he thought Demyx, idiotic as he might be, would know that too.

Except...was it _really _as simple as lust mistaken for love? Because the way Demyx said the words...with such firm conviction...

...and then the way Zexion felt for Demyx himself. It wasn't "love"--or rather...he wouldn't _allow _it to be love. It wasn't just because Zexion had gone for so long without love that he had no idea what to do when it finally came to him, but also...also because of Demyx's scent, still pressing down on him from all sides despite his valiant efforts to restrain his instincts.

There was no way he could love Demyx, even if he wanted to. Because the simple matter was that Demyx was human, and Zexion a vampire. And regardless of what popular fiction might claim, there was simply no way anything approximating love could emerge from such a relationship. Never...

"Demyx..." was all Zexion could think to say, his voice quiet, his head lowered. Demyx, however, lifted Zexion's chin again, so that they were eye-to-eye. So that Zexion could see the seriousness burning in Demyx's eyes, could see the conviction written all over the blonde slayer's features. He _meant _what he said. Every word.

That thought both frightened and comforted Zexion. Frightened him, because he knew Demyx wasn't being idle with his words about loving Zexion. Yet comforted him, because he knew Demyx wasn't being idle with his words.

"I know, I know, you probably think I'm deluded. Hell, _I _kind of think I'm deluded too. But now I don't really care," said Demyx, and the hand on Zexion's chin moved, so that it was carressing Zexion's cheek, pressing with an utmost gentleness so that Zexion felt the warmth, but no pain from the still healing bruises Axel had left behind...

"You see, Zexy," continued Demyx, and he leaned in and planted a kiss on Zexion's forehead, "when I just...when I saw you like that...all beautiful, and miserable, crying because of _me_...I realized. I don't care what you say, or Axel, or anyone in the whole damn world. _I love you, Zexion. _And I think I can love you enough for the both of us."

For a moment, Zexion was stricken with silence, unable to think, unable to do anything but sit in Demyx's arms while Demyx's words echoed in his ear, senseless yet meaning everything at the same time--_I love you, Zexion. Enough for the both of us..._

"I know it's crazy," said Demyx, and he laughed again, shaking his head. "I know I'm crazy. I don't care, though. It's okay, Zexy. You don't have to say you love me back. Just...just do me one favor, all right? Just don't...don't...don't try to tell me that I've been hoodwinked or whatever. Even if this isn't _real, _let me delude myself into thinking it is."

"I...ah..." Zexion couldn't think of what to say. Not when Demyx was smiling at him like that...a kind smile, sure, but also a sad smile, too, a resigned smile... It was completely different from the first time, that night in the park. There was no hope, now. Just resignation. Demyx knew the answer this time, and despite his best attempts at acting like it didn't matter, it was clear from the pain shining in Demyx's eyes, beneath the smile, that it _was _hurting him.

Zexion might not have loved Demyx, but he couldn't deny that he _did _care. He cared enough to hurt as well, when Demyx hurt.

He didn't know what to do, so he settled for the only thing he could--he leaned forward and kissed Demyx.

It was a brief kiss, just him pressing his lips to Demyx and then drawing away again, because Zexion was afraid of what would be incited within him if he let the kiss deepen. But Demyx tightened his grip on Zexion's hair, and before Zexion knew what was happening, he was being drawn into a deeper kiss, a kiss that Demyx pressed into with something near desperation, his tongue stabbing deep into Zexion's mouth, choking the vampire, startling him--

"Nhh Demyx--" he gasped when they pulled away, trying to warn Demyx to stop--

But Demyx wouldn't stop. He cut Zexion off with another kiss, just as powerful and hungry as the first. This time, Zexion tried to protest, pushing against Demyx's chest as the dizzying sensation of Demyx's tongue moving against his own assaulted him, as Demyx's powerful scent, so much _richer _now that he could taste Demyx's flavor, oppressed him...

It took Demyx a while to notice Zexion's protests; by the time he'd pulled out of a final savage kiss, he had maneuvered them both so Zexion was lying on the ground, Demyx clinging with one hand to Zexion's waist and the other on the side of Zexion's face. He stared down at Zexion, a rather stupid (but strangely endearing...) look of surprise on his face.

"Hey, what's the matter, Zex? We can do this without being in love, if that's what you were worrying about--"

"_Hardly," _snapped Zexion, a little more acidly than he intended. Then, in a gentler tone, he said, "It's...Demyx...I am...in case you haven't noticed...I'm not in the best of conditions...I...I'm afraid that if we...if we start...I won't...I mean...I'll..."

He shuddered, closing his eyes, not wanting to finish the sentence--trusting that Demyx would know what he had left unsaid. _I'm afraid I'll eat you._

Wryly, Zexion wondered how any other pair of lovers had ever had the same problem--of one being afraid that he would _consume _the other. Then he reminded himself that he and Demyx weren't lovers, anyway.

"Huh?" Demyx blinked, looking confused, but then grinned--a large, happy-go-lucky that clashed violently with Zexion's own none-too-happy-go-lucky mood. "Oh! Is that all?"

_Is that all? What the hell do you mean by that? _thought Zexion, miffed, irritated at how Demyx was treating this like it was just a game...although Zexion couldn't deny that he quite liked the warmth of Demyx's hands on his waist and cheek. But _no, _he couldn't get into the mood--not now! "Demyx, please, this is _serious_..." he growled.

"You could control yourself back then, couldn't you," insisted Demyx, that stupid grin still on his face. "Then you can control yourself now, Zexy. I'll stay alert this time, I promise. I won't let anything happen to me."

"It's not...don't be...oh, you _idiot!" _huffed Zexion darkly, trying to squirm away from Demyx--but he couldn't stop Demyx from standing up...and taking Zexion with him.

Zexion struggled instantly, thrashing as Demyx picked him up as easily as if he was just a sack of potatoes, or something even lighter--probably, he _was_, thought Zexion darkly. But Demyx didn't put Zexion down, even as Zexion twisted and turned and hit Demyx in the chest and tried to get Demyx to drop him. Sure, it would _hurt _if he fell...but anything was better than being carried like a child by--by _Demyx _of all people.

"Put me down!" snarled Zexion. "Stop carrying me, damn it--ahh!"

"Your wish is my command, Princess," said Demyx, winking at Zexion as he deposited Zexion on to the bed. Zexion immediately tried rolling away from Demyx, only to be stopped by an arm being planted in his way. The incubus glared up at Demyx, trying to infuse his gaze with as much homicidal intent as possible. _Without _trying to look like he wanted to commit that homicide by biting into Demyx's neck.

Demyx responded with an even wider grin. "You don't have to worry, Zexion. I _know _you can do this."

"No, you don't," growled Zexion, turning away and closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Demyx's stupid grin. "How could you understand...? How could you understand the sensation of burning, of _burning _deep inside and knowing that the one thing that will quench that fire is standing right before you? And how easy it would be, for you to reach up and--and just _take _it..."

He trailed off at the end, unable to think of anything else to say...unable to put the sensations blazing within him to words. He couldn't explain his hunger. It just _was. _But he doubted Demyx would ever understand...at least until he was lying dead, bleeding on the floor while Zexion loomed over him...

Zexion's entire being revolted against the image in an instant. No! He couldn't think it, as close as it might be coming to happening...as much as Demyx seemed to be _begging _for it!

"Oh, Zexy, I think I understand _perfectly," _said Demyx, still grinning as idiotically as ever--but that grin had acquired a different quality, a quality that was more...oh. Oh no, _no. _"'Cause let me tell you, that's the way I'm feeling right now!"

"You _pervert!" _snarled Zexion, writhing as Demyx bent over him, to deliver him a kiss to the cheek. "Are you willing to risk your life--for _this?"_

"Who says I'm risking my life?" Demyx's weight plopped on to the bed beside Zexion, and against his will Zexion turned to face the still-smiling slayer, seeing not only the lustful smile but something else...a fierce confidence shining from the depths of Demyx's ocean-blue eyes, like a shaft of light striking a deep reef... "Listen, Zexion...I love you. I don't say that lightly. _I love you. _And I know you care about me too. Maybe not the same way..."

Zexion was no longer aware of anything. Not the cold walls of the room around him, not the rumpled sheets beneath his body--he was aware of nothing but Demyx. Demyx, smiling such a trusting smile; Demyx, his eyes so confident; Demyx, his hands moving, now, one to encircle Zexion's waist, the other reaching to Zexion's hair, brushing back the fringe that Zexion always kept over his eye...

"I know that you care enough not to harm me. I know you're stronger than your instincts. I know you can do this. You can _overcome _this, Zexion. I know you can. I know you enough to know that you'd never let me get hurt in any way. Zexy. Ienzo. I _know."_

How could he sound so confident...? Zexion swallowed dryly, never breaking eye contact with Demyx, aware that he'd begun trembling... He couldn't speak. He couldn't speak. He could only stare, and wonder.

Demyx just smiled again, and added, now sounding almost shy, "I mean, if it's okay with you, Zexion."

Zexion couldn't believe Demyx could sound so...abashed...after before being so confident. But, he reflected idly, as he reached up and linked his hands around Demyx's neck, drawing himself into a deep and passionate kiss that Demyx returned near instantly, that was just one of the many things Zexion liked about Demyx.

He pressed slowly in the kiss, not wanting to miss a single second of--of this. Of _Demyx. _Of Demyx's beautiful sea-salt, ocean-breeze scent, overwhelming him, but in a different way than before. A different hunger, stirring in a different place. His hands buried into Demyx's hair, while Demyx's hands tightened around Zexion's waist, and together they ravished each other's mouths, drinking in each other's flavors, Zexion lost in a din of sensations he couldn't quite comprehend but knew he enjoyed as Demyx's tongue moved within his mouth.

It was so...different...from before. Before, he'd always been the one in control. Even if he was the one on bottom, he always held the reins--Demyx knew that. But now, this time, he was giving in to Demyx's control, allowing Demyx's hands to move as they please, enjoying the somewhat odd sensations his hunger incited within him. Queasy sensations in his stomach, that both electrified and terrified him at the same time. He pushed the fear aside, however, and resolved to enjoy this. Surprising, how he'd become so confident in his own ability to control his hunger...

Demyx's mouth had moved now, down, leaving trails of gentle yet desperate kisses down the pale skin of Zexion's neck. One by one he felt the bandages Vexen had so painstakingly applied being peeled off...felt Demyx's tongue trace the fading bruises left by Axel...felt Demyx's hands move now to the waistband of Zexion's pants...

"Axel," murmured Demyx, his voice low and sounding preoccupied. Zexion jerked, startled.

"What...?"

"Axel...he did this, didn't he...?" The gentle brush of Demyx's fingers (one hand having moved up from Zexion's waist) against the now saliva-coated marks. Zexion shuddered at the sensations the gesture incited, how sensitive the skin had become... "You have a lot of injuries on you, Zex, was it--"

Zexion had had enough of this. He'd already decided that he wasn't going to tell Demyx about Axel until--well, until the time was right. On his _own _terms. Not now. To do so now would ruin the enjoyment of the moment. So before Demyx could continue, Zexion very deliberately reached over and delivered Demyx's package a good squeeze.

"Oop! Hey! Whoa! Zexy--" Demyx's voice trailed off into a content whine, and he bent down again, returning to his ministrations on Zexion's neck. Zexion, pleased, turned his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to Demyx. The slayer eagerly took on the invitation, marking with even more eagerness than ever before...Zexion squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the pleasure, the beauty of it all--

"M-more, Demyx," he mumbled, barely conscious of what he was saying. He was aware of still clinging on to Demyx's neck with one hand, while the other rested on Demyx's waist. Demyx obliged, re-marking the pale skin of Zexion's neck with an even more ferocious intentness, sometimes even nipping the delicate skin, prompting tiny gasps of delight from Zexion.

"You still wanna eat me, Zexy?" whispered Demyx, the playful words tickling and hot against Zexion's ear. Zexion, to his surprise, responded with a laugh.

"No."

And he _didn't. _There was still Demyx's scent, as overwhelming as ever...but different. He no longer wanted it quite the same way. Wanted _Demyx _quite the same way. How could he view Demyx as food _now, _when Demyx was kissing him so beautifully, his every touch gliding like surf against sand on Zexion's cold skin...?

Zexion knew the spell wouldn't last. Knew that it was just a combination of hormones and adrenaline and perhaps a bit of his powers as well. When it was over...the hunger would return, a hundred times worse than before. But for now...he'd push it aside. And enjoy Demyx, with everything he had.

"Ha ha ha, that's good. 'Cause I wanna eat _you, _Zexion," said Demyx, with his laugh like sparkling sunlight, and pulled Zexion into another kiss.

Good thing, because Zexion had been about to retort with something along the lines of "Snerk not clever."

They broke apart from the kiss, Zexion's head spinning--but greater excitements awaited. Demyx's hands had already moved to the front of Zexion's shirt, unbuttoning it...exposing all the bandages Vexen had applied to the injuries Axel had left behind. Zexion turned to the side, squeezing his eyes shut, the fire-that-was-not-hunger within him now tempered by shame. Demyx could see...everything. Zexion had nothing left to hide. Would Demyx still want him, beaten and battered as he was? What Demyx wanted, he knew, was perfection, a creature pale and innocent as moonlight...

Butu Demyx didn't seem to care about Zexion's multiple injuries, though his eyes narrowed somewhat and his mouth seemed to be moving to form the name, "Axel." Once more, Zexion stopped Demyx, squeezing tighter with the hand on Demyx's neck and shutting Demyx up with another passionate kiss.

"Shh," he whispered when he pulled away, Demyx bearing another stupid-but-endearing look of surprise on his face. "Don't talk, Demyx. Just...just let it happen."

And for further insurance, Zexion began to unleash his powers.

Slowly, bit by bit...drawing up an illusion of a quiet and dark night pressing on all sides around them. Zexion wasn't quite sure if _Demyx _would appreciate this illusion, but Zexion knew he would. How he'd missed the silence of being alone in the dead of night, with only the cold light of distant galaxies turning slowly above him...

This time, it would be different, though. This time, he wouldn't be alone.

Demyx had finished unbuttoning Zexion's shirt--not tearing roughly like Axel would have, but taking his time, his every motion gentle and controlled--and was now running a hand down Zexion's chest, pausing sometimes to pick at the bandages but never removing them. He didn't seem to mind Zexion's injuries, occasionally even emitting little coos of sympathy when he encountered some of Zexion's more severe wounds.

Demyx's sympathy did nothing more than annoy Zexion, though. That wasn't what he wanted...what he needed. Snarling his discontent, he tightened his grip on the back of Demyx's neck, while the other hand reached for the zipper of Demyx's pants.

"Whoa! Hey, not so fast, Zexy--"

"You _wanted _this, didn't you, you idiot?" grumbled Zexion. Judging by the way Demyx was looking at him, though, it seemed that Demyx found Zexion's irritation somehow the most attractive thing on this side of the universe. Then again, Zexion supposed that his powers were beginning to take effect...making him seem enticing to Demyx no matter what he said or did. No matter his multiple injuries...

"Oh, Zexion. You're so..._sexy," _mumbled Demyx, tracing the curve of Zexion's jaw with one finger--for some reason, Zexion shivered at the gesture even though there was nothing sexual to it. But then, a crease appeared between Demyx's eyebrows, and a perturbed frown appeared on his face.

"No fair, Zexion. Using your powers again...?"

"What, you _don't _want to enjoy this?" said Zexion, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper as he gently teased Demyx's pants zipper down.

"I can enjoy this _without _you using your powers, you know," retorted Demyx, sounding miffed, though his hand moved down, now stroking the curve of Zexion's neck...Zexion swallowed back a moan, surprised at how that simple gesture was enough to incite strange jolts of electricity somewhere in the pit of his stomach...

"You don't appreciate my illusion...?" said Zexion, tilting his head to the side to offer more of his neck to Demyx, all the while his hands were busy with pulling Demyx's pants down.

"Oh, no, hell, no. I _do." _Demyx's voice cut off for a moment when he resumed kissing and nipping the already-bruised skin of Zexion's neck. This time, Zexion didn't bother hiding his moan--it felt strangely _good, _how Demyx's tongue glided over the sensitive flesh, setting the bruises on fire... "I _do, _Zexy...I do. But look, don't--I mean, don't try--with _you_--"

Demyx was becoming incoherent from pleasure, which Zexion didn't mind. Speaking would only ruin his enjoyment of the moment...both of their enjoyments. Zexion leaned forward and kissed Demyx again, pressing against the slayer's mouth with a desperate passion as Demyx, understanding what Zexion wanted, now began to unzip Zexion's pants as well. Zexion, for his part, became absorbed in removing Demyx's pants more fully, all the while kissing Demyx, over and over again, drinking in the slayer's potent flavor--

He pulled away from Demyx when the slayer emitting a very loud squeal--understandable, since Zexion had just taken Demyx's growing erection in his hand and delivered it a firm squeeze.

"Ahh--Zexy--!" cried Demyx, flushing bright red as he stiffened under Zexion's grip. Zexion merely gave Demyx a brief, playful wink.

"Why so apprehensive, Demyx? Weren't you the one who initiated this?" he said, his voice teasing, seductive, reaching up with his other hand and teasing a few strands of Demyx's messy blonde hair. "Don't tell me you don't want to go all the way...?"

"What? Of course I do!" said Demyx quickly, looking offended. But only for an instant. Then, a smile imbued with playfulness to match Zexion's spread across his face, and then without any further ado, he pulled Zexion into another kiss--while his hands flew down to the waistband of Zexion's pants again, and pulled them down, exposing all that Zexion had to offer.

If Zexion had been excited before...he let himself fall even further into the pleasure this time, arching his back and moaning as Demyx's hands slipped to wrap around Zexion's hips, the slayer's warm fingers digging into the half-healed bruises. It hurt, somewhat, having his healing injuries being aggravated like this...but at the same time it felt good. Along with a host of other sensations Zexion could no longer comprehend, too lost in the comforting dark of his own illusion...in the fire that Demyx's every touch could incite...

Demyx was at his neck again, sucking on the bruises with a passionate intentness, the cold sensations of his tongue against the injured skin causing quivers of pleasure to shoot through Zexion's body. Zexion was now making no effort to hide his pleasure, responding to every movement of Demyx's tongue with a helpless half-gasp, half-moan. He was sure he'd never enjoyed sex so much...

...there was certainly something to this whole "submission" thing...

Then, as Demyx arrived at the tattoo etched in the hollow of Zexion's neck, he bit with a rough motion that startled Zexion, causing him to jolt upright (well, as much as he could with Demyx still pinning him down) and stare in wide-eyed shock at Demyx. Demyx just smiled--a smile imbued with lustful intent--and swirled a finger through the dark red blood that had welled from the bite.

Zexion relaxed, taking in a deep breath...Demyx would never hurt him. And the instant he breathed, he understand what Demyx had done--the smell of Zexion's own blood invaded his senses, repulsing him and drowning out the quivering of Demyx's blood that Zexion could still sense. He almost drew away from Demyx, so repulsed by his own blood that he was, but Demyx's grip tightened around Zexion's shoulder and he drew the incubus closer, into another ravishing kiss, while his fingers danced down from Zexion's shoulder to the already-healing puncture wounds from where Zexion had stabbed himself earlier...

It was the strangest sensation in the world, kissing Demyx and drinking in Demyx's beautiful clear presence even as Zexion's own dark scent welled around him, filling his stomach with twin warring sensations of passion and disgust. He whimpered a little, disliking the loss of contact when Demyx drew away from the kiss--but Demyx just winked at him and replaced his mouth with three of his fingers.

Zexion knew exactly what Demyx wanted, and gave it to the slayer, sucking with undisguised passion on the slayer's fingers as they explored his mouth, even daring to brush against his fangs for one electrifying second. That second was enough to cause something dark and dangerous to leap within Zexion's stomach, quick as a striking viper, and he stopped sucking, horrified in himself--horrified by the sudden and overpowering urge to just _bite _the fingers still digging into the inside of his mouth, waiting expectantly--

"Huh? What's wrong, Zexy?" Demyx's voice sounded distant, as if it was floating across miles of ocean to his ears. But it was enough--the strong clear tone of the slayer's voice was enough to snap Zexion out of his momentary dark urges.

He resumed sucking, coating Demyx's fingers with his saliva, until Demyx withdrew his fingers one-by-one. He was smiling again, his beautiful smile that seemed to pierce into Zexion's iced-over heart like a powerful beam of sunlight, almost made him feel that...that for one too-brief moment, his heart was beating again, pumping warm blood through his frozen veins...

"I love you, Zexion. My Zexion. My tainted, my beautiful, my Zexion..." whispered Demyx, the soft words carressing Zexion's ears, meaning nothing, yet electrifying his soul like nothing else had that night. The queasy sensations churned stronger deep in the pit of his abdomen, and for the first time, he became aware of how _hard _he was, how desperately he was throbbing...how he wanted nothing but Demyx, all of Demyx--

"I _know," _whispered Zexion, and his words trailed off into a drawn-out, half-scream, half-moan, when Demyx slid all three now-slick fingers deep within Zexion.

Zexion was lost. He knew nothing. Nothing but his own hands entangled in Demyx's hair, nothing but the gasps and mewls bursting forth from his lips as Demyx stretched him, scissoring his fingers back and forth, opening him luxuriously on all sides. Best of all, he knew that better things were only ahead--and _that _knowledge invigorated him even more.

The darkness pressed down, further, swallowing them in its comforting embrace--the light of a million distant stars rained down upon them--

Demyx pulled out, after having stretched Zexion to his satisfaction. Zexion emitted a discontent whimper when Demyx pulled out, but Demyx just smiled--again, that beautiful smile, that warm smile--and tightened his grip on Zexion's shoulder, while the other moved to Zexion's hip, hoisted himself up, and--

If Zexion hadn't been lost before...

He was all gone now. Everything was gone. The world. The hunger. Xemnas. Axel. Roxas. His own past, his own _self. _Gone to the beautiful sensation of Demyx, _all _of Demyx, pushing deeper and deeper into Zexion and causing Zexion to choke and gasp and moan and shiver in delight that he couldn't contain...he felt almost as if he was going to explode from the _pleasure _of it all...

He had no idea. No idea that sex could ever feel this wonderful. Before, he'd always used it as a tool, as a means to an end, never delighting in the _act _but in the outcome--in the manipulation--but now, now that Demyx was pounding into him, into his delicious tight warmth, he couldn't believe that there could ever be anything better than _this, _than being held, and dominated, and set afire--and _loved_--

Darkness, swirling thicker and tighter around them, so that Zexion could no longer tell if he was opening or closing his eyes anymore--everything was all the same shade of black, interrupted only by the cool and gentle gaze of the stars above. He clung tighter to Demyx, inhaling the slayer's scent, a scent that caused every nerve within the incubus to blaze with a fire that had nothing to do with hunger, and everything to do with a growing tight sensation in the pit of his stomach...

The darkness. The stars. The pleasure, the clarity, the fire, the ocean-breeze wafting from Demyx, the darkness and bloodied violets from himself. The softness of Demyx's sweat-soaked hair twisted in his fingers. The strength of Demyx's grip on his hip and on his shoulder...the stinging from his healing wounds. The sensation of Demyx hitting that sweet spot, over and over again, causing Zexion's vision to burst into a haze of starlight--

And then, with a great, shuddering gasp, Zexion came, spilling his essence all over his stomach with a bursting sensation that felt like floodgates shattering, like a dam breaking, like all of the griefs and joys of his life were escaping in one great torrent...

Demyx came soon after, shouting Zexion's name, all of Zexion's names--_Zexy, Zexion, Ienzo, my broken butterfly_--and Zexion convulsed when he felt an unbearable warmth shooting through his tight confines. A few more thrusts to ride out his orgasm--Zexion felt them all, every motion, and moaned accordingly--and then Demyx pulled out, breathing hard. He met Zexion's eyes, his hair loose and plastered by sweat all over his forehead, face flushed, looking more exhilarated than Zexion had ever seen him.

"You didn't eat me, now, did you?" he said, his grin becoming abashed, a cheerful light dancing across his bright blue eyes, like sunlight across the ocean.

For a dazed moment, Zexion had no idea what Demyx was talking about--but then realized. Chuckling quietly, feeling amused for some arcane reason, he shook his head.

"I suppose I didn't."

"I wanna eat _you, _though," said Demyx, the light in his eyes now a mischievous one, and before Zexion could ask just what the hell Demyx meant, he felt a sharp stinging sensation in the crook of his neck--the sensation of saliva mingling with blood. Zexion turned, alarmed, but then saw that Demyx was eagerly lapping up the blood from where he'd bit, in the very center of Zexion's coven tattoo...

"Mm...you're blood's...really _cold," _said Demyx, looking somewhat perturbed when he pulled away, wiping the blood from his mouth with a gesture that sent that same queasy-but-electrifying sensation shooting through Zexion's stomach again.

"Why shouldn't it be?" replied Zexion, trying to return his voice to its old bored indifference, but failing--he still wasn't able to keep the breathless quality out of his voice. "It's not like my heart is even pumping anything..."

"Yeah, but it's still kind of weird," said Demyx with a shrug. "Doesn't taste bad, though."

Clearly, Demyx was delusional. The only tasty blood in the room was, well...throbbing beneath Demyx's skin, lending it such a beautiful pink flush in stark contrast to Zexion's white coldness...

Zexion shook his head angrily, realizing that the previous hunger had now been sated--by the beautiful sensation of giving up control and allowing Demyx to move within him--and now the old hunger had returned. With a vengeance. He turned to the side, feeling oddly drained, letting the comforting darkness and starlight drift slowly away from him, until the room, with his cold, stark concrete walls, and the rumpled and stained bedsheets returned.

Demyx was still beside him, his presence as warm and inviting as always. Zexion didn't look back at Demyx, trusting that Demyx understood him enough not to speak. And Demyx didn't. He just remained by Zexion's side, one hand resting on Zexion's arm, pressing not painfully, but with a gentle sort of insistence...directly on the drying blood crusted over the wounds Zexion had inflicted on himself, earlier...

Somehow, that simple gesture of Demyx's comforted the incubus. His hunger might still be burning, but it felt strangely lessened now, despite his current close physical proximity to the slayer. Mostly, he felt satisfied. Satisfied that he had found Demyx again...satisfied that he'd cleared everything up with the laughing blonde slayer...

He felt, almost, that he could handle anything now. Almost.

* * *

Yeah...think that speaks for itself...

Expect slower updates in the future, due to not having written the seventeenth chapter and the parents putting insane pressure on yours truly to study for the SAT. Can anyone think of anything appropriate for the initials to stand for...? Like, "Stupid Awful Test", but a little more clever than that... Anyway, chapter sixteen is called "Awakening", and returns to Roxas, after I neglected him for, what...two, three, chapters already?

_Forgive! He didn't deserve forgiveness for what he'd done. It was his fault, his fault entirely. So what if he'd been under the control of the vampire at the time (as he suspected Axel would claim if he was able to defend Roxas now...)? It was Roxas's fault for even falling for the vampire's ruse in the first place. How could he have just stood there feeling sorry for Zexion as the vampire wove his web of manipulative lies over Roxas? Feeling sorry for a vampire! He shouldn't have. He should have listened to Axel when Axel had snapped at him, "He's only a vampire! He's just manipulating you!"_

Long preview for your happiness. In the meantime, read and review!


	16. Awakening

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_16. Awakening_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Here's the last update I can promise before school starts, so savor it as best you can...even though it's rather...short. Compared to the other chapters at least. _

We return to Roxas in this chapter...which has a very strong XemSaix vibe to it as well. Overall, I'm not terribly pleased with this chapter and may (potentially) overhaul it, but I had to get it out of the way in order to write the seventeenth chapter, which is one of my favorites so far, and not in a small part because of the cliffhanger at the end...

But enough of chapter seventeen, and on to sixteen. Enjoy!

* * *

Xemnas paced back and forth in the now-vacant meeting room, perturbed.

He was thinking, very hard. About Luxord, about Kadaj, about the various unorthodox alliances he had forged and would potentially forge. But above all...

Strange, how Xemnas's thoughts contiued to turn to the little slate-haired incubus who had attempted to lie to his Superior. Not that Xemnas would ever care about an incubus. He had better amusements than incubi and succubi; other vampires might be pleased by the silly touches of their lower brethren, but never Xemnas. The bodies of incubi and succubi, their movements, were too light to him, sliding off him like water from rock. And their ridiculous prattle, too, irritated him to no end.

Saix was _nothing _like that. Saix was so strong, his muscles hard like steel, able to match his Superior in every movement. He didn't prattle, either, emitting no sounds during sex save his low, animalistic grunts and growls, and, whenever Xemnas pulled his partner into one of their intense, ravishing climaxes, howls that seemed to tear apart the very air, to tremble at a moon quivering high above...

How could Xemnas ever fall into bed with a succubus again, after _Saix? _Of course, the other vampires might give him odd looks, might whisper nasty rumors about his decision to forge an alliance with Saix's kind...but Xemnas didn't care. He was their Superior and they would all follow him to the ends of the earth itself if he willed it. That didn't stop them from complaining, though, about the "stench" they could detect all over the headquarters. Xemnas didn't know why they all complained, though. He found Saix's smell, a combination of earthy musk and light moonflowers, utterly invigorating, far more delightful than his own blood-and-darkness presence.

As if thinking about Saix was the cue, Xemnas suddenly caught a wift of a familiar musk-and-moonflower scent, and turned towards the door of his room. It clicked open on a command from his mind, inviting his partner in.

A wolf, powerfully built, all rippling muscle beneath shaggy fur the strangest color--a light, shimmering blue--padded into the room, its steps as light and soundless as moonlight on a shadowy night. The wolf slid gracefully around Xemnas, twining around the Superior's legs, and Xemnas reached down and placed his hand on the wolf's head, right above the x-shaped scar shining on the wolf's snout, his hand sinking into the soft fur. Fur as soft as the elegantly long hair that Xemnas so loved running his hands through as he lay beside the other during the nights...

The wolf turned slightly to cast Xemnas a glance, its golden eyes glimmering with an inquisitive light. Xemnas sighed and stared at the ceiling again.

"It's the incubus traitor, Saix. He is...dangerous."

The wolf turned away and emitted a grunting snort, almost derisively. Xemnas laughed and stroked the wolf's fur.

"You might not believe it, Saix. But he _is. _He is nothing like...an average incubus. He is intelligent, a schemer, a plotter. More than that...he has a strong will. Do you not sense it too? That little boy...he killed a slayer and half-made the slayer's student all for the sake of a single human. Who can stop that sort of determination?"

A discontent growl, thrumming from deep in the throat of the wolf. Xemnas sighed.

"Even as intelligent and willful as the incubus is...he's still naive. Too short-sighted to see what he has unleashed... Do you understand, Saix? He _killed _the heir of the La Monte family of vampire slayers. We will not escape this without repercussions, Saix."

The wolf just growled again, turning away from Xemnas.

"You understand, Saix," said Xemnas, never removing his gaze from the ceiling. "The incubus bore the mark of our coven. Surely, the slayer must have _seen_..."

A sharp intake of breath from the wolf provided Xemnas with the reaction he'd wanted. Xemnas looked down for the first time, smiling at Saix even as he continued stroking the wolf's fur.

"Don't you see...? Sooner or later, eventually...the slayer authority will track down the killer. They will come to _us. _After all, it's only the heir to one of the most prominent vampire slaying families in the world that was killed."

Saix growled harder, a low, perturbed sound that bared his teeth. Xemnas twisted some of Saix's fur beneath his fingers, reveling in its softness...even as he too shared the same perturbed feeling that Saix did.

"The little incubus Ienzo has released a dragon, and has not even realized it. This is...this is troublesome, Saix," said Xemnas, shaking his head slowly. "If the slayers come after us...I can deal with them, yes. But I'd rather they not be alerted to our presence until the time is right."

The Saix-wolf began pacing around Xemnas, its tail flicking discontently, its motions smooth as flowing water. Xemnas could see his own apprehension reflected in Saix's shining golden eyes, and couldn't respond to it except with another heavy sigh, a sigh that seemed to contain the weariness of the world itself. He resumed his stroking of Saix's head, but nothing could ease the rising troubled feeling deep within him.

"Disturbing, how an _incubus _could potentially foil all of our plans..."

* * *

When Demyx came to, sliding unwillingly out of the comforting darkness of sleep, he realized that no one was lying in the bed beside him.

He pulled himself up, rubbing his eyes, confused--he was quite sure he'd fallen asleep with his arms around Zexion, his face buried into the vampire's delicate slate-blue hair, inhaling his beautiful dark-but-sweet scent. But now...he was all alone in the bed, with only a slight indent in the sheets beside him (as well as the drying liquid from their...escapade...) reminding him that someone had been there.

"Zexy...?" he mumbled, turning to the side.

Zexion was leaning against the opposite wall, much as he had been earlier, his head lowered, arms folded. He was fully dresed again, and had even reapplied the bandages to his neck that Demyx had removed. For all means and purposes, it seemed like Zexion was acting as if...what had happened..._hadn't _happened.

"Demyx." Zexion actually did acknowledge Demyx, jerking his head in a curt nod.

"Um..." said Demyx, feeling his face color when he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say. "Um...about...um...what happened...or whatever..."

"Don't mention it," said Zexion, and when he looked up at Demyx he was smirking, his familiar confident--and _seductive_--smirk. "Thank you, Demyx."

"Huh? For what?" Demyx blinked, unaware of having done anything that he deserved to be _thanked _for. In fact..._he _should be thanking Zexion, for having come all this way just for Demyx. If Demyx had been in a particularly dreaming mood, he would've even thought this meant for sure that Zexion loved him...but no. He couldn't go there. Not when Zexion had long made his disinterest clear, had made it clear even last _night _(well, he couldn't tell if it was night, given how dark it always was in here...).

Zexion's little smirk just widened even more, and when he spoke, his voice was a low and excited, barely above a whisper.

"For the best night in bed I've ever had, of course."

Anything Demyx had been about to say in reply died in a sputtered choke in his throat. He could only bury his face back into the pillow, feeling his cheeks burn scarlet against the cool sheets beneath him, and realize that he'd almost..._almost_...been about to say the same thing to Zexion. Thank everything there was that he hadn't.

Zexion's low chuckle, delighted and light as a breeze whispering through the night, reached Demyx's ears. And Demyx found it wasn't hard to ignore everything--the vampires, his current sorry state, _everything_--and just laugh along with the person he loved.

* * *

Roxas was conscious of nothing but the pain.

He had no idea how long the pain had been coursing through his body, rendering him immobile. He didn't know, and he didn't care. All that mattered to him was the agony shooting through his every vein, twisting him into a tight and shivering ball, sending whimpers and gasps of pain to his lips...

It didn't even matter to him where he was. He certainly didn't know. Before, he'd been...in the North. Right...taken to a room on his own, much like this one, only the walls there were of stone and these were of concrete. But it was the same. Dark and cold...and he was alone. Alone, untilthe vampiric guards stepped in and...and...

He couldn't remember what they'd done, only that when he had awoken, he was no longer in the cold stone room, but in a cold concrete room. Same difference, though; they were both prisons, and he still had no idea where he was. And the pain...the pain had only intensified. He could barely think anymore. He couldn't do anything but curl up tightly and tremble from the agony stabbing into his every nerve ending, hoping for it to end, to end, even if it had to end in darkness forever--

Even if it meant he could never see Axel again--

--_anything _was better than this pain. Roxas had never hurt so badly before, not even that--_that _time--when the vampire Zexion had bit him. This was a pain that seemed to be tearing him apart on all sides; a pain that seemed to be squeezing him like a metal vice, preventing him from drawing breath; a pain that flowed in his veins as if it had replaced his blood; it was pain of the worst degree and he couldn't even _begin _to comprehend it.

In desperation, Roxas had started seizing on something--_anything_--to raise him from the dark ocean of agony, and somehow he found that lifeline. In his memories, painful as they might be...

But the pain of having lost Hayner, Pence, and Olette...of having lost Axel...was _nothing _when compared to the agony currently tearing the fabric of his entire being apart.

Hayner, Pence, Olette. He remembered them. Remembered running in the streets with them...remembered sneaking into convenience stores and stealing food...remembered following Pence's many harebrained schemes to make money...remembered perching with Hayner on the top of the construction projects, laughing over the triumphs and tribulations of the previous day...remembered thanking Olette as she patched up his cuts and scrapes...remembered trading insults with Seifer's gang...

It seemed like a dream, almost. Like something from someone else's life. He was no longer that person, the boy whose only care had been surviving and whose only excitement had been fighting with Seifer and his crew. He was a different person, harsher and wiser and stronger--

After that night, everything had changed. Everything had changed after the snarling vampire, in one fell stroke, slew his three best friends...his only family. Everything had changed after he'd picked up that length of pipe and senselessly chased after the vampire--with only the desire to _hurt _in his unthinking mind. Everything had changed, after...after...

...after Axel...

_No, not Axel! _a part of Roxas's mind screamed, the part that had tried not to think about him ever since--ever since _that _had happened...but another part of Roxas welcomed the thoughts. The memories. It would be a nice reprieve, a distraction, from the pain currently racking all of Roxas's limbs.

He couldn't help but think--again--about the way Axel had died. How Axel had just _lay _there and smiled at Roxas with such trust in his green eyes, even as his own blood splurted from his chest and Roxas drove a knife further and further into Axel's heart...how Axel had said, with his last gurgling exhalation, _"I forgive you, Roxas."_

Forgive! He didn't deserve forgiveness for what he'd done. It was his fault, his fault entirely. So what if he'd been under the control of the vampire at the time (as he suspected Axel would claim if he was able to defend Roxas now...)? It was _Roxas's _fault for even falling for the vampire's ruse in the first place. How could he have just stood there feeling sorry for Zexion as the vampire wove his web of manipulative lies over Roxas? Feeling _sorry _for a vampire! He shouldn't have. He should have listened to Axel when Axel had snapped at him, "_He's only a vampire! He's just manipulating you!"_

Now Roxas was paying the price. Axel was gone...and Roxas was...Roxas was...something he could have never imagined being. A _vampire. _He almost choked on the sickening irony of it all--from slayer, to _vampire. _He wondered what Axel would think, if he wasn't...if he _wasn't _dead...

Why did Roxas's thoughts keep turning back to _Axel _of all people? But why shouldn't they? He wouldn't be lying if he said that Axel, now, was the most important person in his life. Axel had saved him from the vampire. Axel had given him a new life, a place to stay--a person to _be. _Under Axel's instruction, he had matured from Roxas the street rat to--to Roxas, the slayer-in-training.

Only to have it all taken away from him in an instant. By an insidious slate-haired vampire who appeared barely two years older than Roxas...

"_Way to go, Rox, just trusting everyone you come across," _whispered Axel's voice, as confident but playful as Roxas remembered. It was so shockingly familiar that it sent stinging tears to Roxas's eyes, and he wrapped his arms tighter around each other, digging into his skin into his fingernails--no, not really nails anymore, what with the way they'd sharpened and elongated...more like _claws_--drawing forth trickles of blood colder and darker than it once had been. The pain continued to rack his nerve endings, but there was a different pain now, too...a pain that surrounded Roxas's heart as if a frozen hand had reached deep inside his chest and _squeezed._

The pain of remembering Axel. Axel, with his hair a spiky red halo around his head, a forever mischeivous light glinting in his brilliant green eyes... Axel, his voice so easily able to alternate between light and jesting, clipped and lecturing, and fierce with anger... Axel with his knowing smirk, and the strange marks under his eyes, Roxas had never asked what they were for... Axel, his touch light on Roxas's wrist as he guided Roxas into the proper position for impaling a vampire with a stake...

Axel. Gone. Forever.

Roxas couldn't say why that _hurt _so much. Of course he'd feel awful about killing the guy; Axel had been his _mentor, _after all. But there was a different component to the pain, a different, deeper sort of pain than just that of killing a beloved teacher. A heart-stabbing, soul-wrenching pain...pain at having killed...the person he...

The person he cared about more than anyone else. More than anything else in the entire world. Someone he'd be glad to _die _for, yet fate had been cruel and instead _that _person had died in his stead, at _his _hand, for no reason, save the machinations of a smirking vampire...

Somehow, when Zexion spoke of going to the lengths he did to save Demyx, Roxas felt he almost--understood. Almost.

_No, don't think about--about _him. _About _them. _Axel, Axel, I'm sorry, Axel, I wish I could have seen you again Axel--_

Roxas had been so wrapped up in his memories of Axel that he hadn't realized that the pain was beginning to die.

He became numb from surprise for a moment, wondering if he wasn't just deluding himself or if he'd been hurting so badly the pain had shorted out his nervous system--_what the hell, it doesn't work like that!_--but then, twitching his fingers experimentally, realized...the pain _was _starting to lessen. Before...even that simple gesture would have been enough to send spasms shooting from the nerves in his fingertips through his entire body. Now, though, while it _did _hurt...the pain was a duller pain, more like a steady throbbing in his veins instead of the spasming daggers it had been earlier.

Not to mention...Roxas _felt _different, too. More...more awake. More alert. Gone was the disorientation caused by the pain, replaced by a startling clarity of thought. He could even _see _clearer, too, as if the darkness had moved aside to admit a strong pale moonlight--he could make out every sharp corner in the room, every crack in the wall, every stain on the floor. _Details _were suddenly jumping out at him, everywhere, not overwhelming him, but making sense, making order from a chaotic world.

He'd become more attuned to sound, too. Nothing was lost on him, now. Not the sound of his own breaths, cold and lifeless in the equally cold air. Not the minute scurrying and scratching of rats in the wall. Not even, much to Roxas's surprise, the sound of other vampires in the--the _warehouse, _he realized now. He could _hear _them...hear their footsteps in the distance, hear faint strains of low conversations...

And sense them as well. He couldn't quite explain it. It wasn't...wasn't _scent, _exactly, though he felt he was detecting at least a part of it through his nostrils. Yet...somehow Roxas felt he was sensing the blood-and-darkness presence of the other vampires somewhere else, somewhere throbbing deep in his veins... But it didn't matter. He _knew, _now, where they were--where every single vampire in the warehouse was in relation to himself. And with the knowledge that he could detect _them_...something else floated from the air, something that forced him to wrinkle his nose in disgust and shake his head from the sheer _power _of it. A heavy, musky scent, like a wet dog only even more unpleasant...

It was so..._strange. _He'd never felt like this before. Not even after...after _that _had happened. Mostly he'd been disoriented, both by the light and the hunger burning in his veins, as well as his overall _confusion. _True, he'd felt his senses improve somewhat, and certainly had been able to see in the darkness much better...but it had never been like this. Never had his senses been sharpened to _this _extreme.

He began to move, once he was confident that he was in no danger of keeling over from agony any time soon. Slowly, at first, just twitching his limbs...then uncurling from the fetal positon he'd been in...crawling to his hands and knees...and finally, inhaling deeply and hoping with all the strength of his heart that he would _not _fall over...standing up.

It wasn't as bad as Roxas thought it would be. His legs trembled a little bit, aching in protest after having been huddled next to his chest for so long. But he didn't fall, and the pain had died down enough that Roxas, while still feeling it, wasn't bothered enough by it that he couldn't move. He took an awkward step forward, and then another, but paused--after all, just where the hell was he planning on _going, _anyway?

He didn't know. He was still trapped here, even if he'd suddenly seemed to have become more sharp in his senses. And why _had _that happened in the first place...?

_Well, _that's _easy. I was turned into a vampire, wasn't I? _

The thought was still distasteful, but Roxas couldn't deny the truth of it, as much as he hated it. He _had _been turned (well, at least partially...), and was himself surprised by how long it had taken to really feel it--sure, he'd acquired a disliking for light and a fondness for blood, but had yet to acquire the "benefits" of vampirism, such as improved senses and stamina.

Though again, Roxas supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Axel had taught him (among so many other things) that all made vampires underwent a period where they were near useless, immobilized while their bodies changed from living to undead. Usually it only took a few days--or less--depending on the strength of the pureblood that had made them. Perhaps it'd taken longer for Roxas because he hadn't been fully made.

Now, though, he'd awakened. Awakened into the vampiric nature he still rebelled against, even though he knew it was a pointless fight. But if he didn't fight...what did he have left? It was the least he owed Axel...

Axel.

Strange, how the thought of Axel...almost invigorated Roxas. How it made his legs twitch in something near anticipation, how it made his blood sing with excitement...

...how it filled his entire being with _purpose._

Now, he knew what to do. He _knew, _somehow. Even if it was a pointless, stupid effort...even if he was stuck in a coven filled with vampires...

But he could do anything, now that he'd awakened to the full range of his powers as a creature of the night. He could escape. He could get the hell out of here...and stalk through the city's streets...and find, in the city's upper-class district...a house...a tall and imposing villa, a familiar place, a place that Roxas had been so close to calling _home_...

He didn't stop to think _why, _or even what he was going to find there. He didn't care anymore. All that mattered to Roxas was--was _Axel. _He hadn't said goodbye, after all. He hadn't done anything to repent for the horrible thing he'd done, except sulk and whimper in pain. No, he had to make up for it in a more concrete way...had to return to the place where Axel had died. It would probably be crawling with slayers investigating Axel's mysterious death, but Roxas no longer cared. Hell, he would even welcome it, if they killed him--

Then he could be with Axel again...

So it was without thinking that Roxas slowly began to drift towards the door again, his every step slow and purposeful. He tried the door; it was locked. Oh well, that didn't matter to him...he just pressed his shoulder against the door, and it splintered into pieces beneath him. He had to stumble to regain his balance, but couldn't help a small smile at his handiwork--that had been much too easy. He supposed he'd gained physical strength from his awakening, as well...

The door opened into a dark hallway, but Roxas could sense his surroundings enough to know that if he took a few lefts, he'd be able to reach the outer wall of the warehouse. After that...it was only a question of breaking through the wall, and escaping. Somehow, with his heightened senses, he could tell that it was night, so he could travel freely.

He could find Axel's house again.

Roxas gave into the soaring joy that thought inspired within him, and broke into a run, not caring who or what he ran into--he could deal with it. He could deal with everything. As long as it led him to Axel again... Ahead, he could detect the presence of three vampires, but it didn't matter to him; they weren't particularly strong vampires anyhow...

Three beautiful young woman, all blonde and curvaceous, stood where the hall turned to the left, and they all gave Roxas blank stares for a moment--only to then bat their eyelashes and giggle, and try to reach out with their cold clawed hands and grab him...

"Outta my way," he snarled at them, and threw all their hands aside, even giving one a push that sent her slamming straight into the wall.

The other two just stood blankly where they were, staring at their fallen comrade, and Roxas found it all too easy to ignore them and run, run, _run, _ahead, not caring about anything but escaping--but finding his _home_--

The air whistled past his ears as he ran, faster than he'd ever run before--so fast it almost felt like he was flying. He rounded several more lefts, not encountering anyone else, save a vampire he accidentally ran into while on his way down the final hall. The vampire fell over with a loud oath, papers flying from his hands--Roxas found it all too easy to grab the vampire by the neck...and twist.

He didn't feel anything, particularly, upon hearing the crack that ensued. He'd already killed a vampire while under Axel's wing. This, he supposed darkly, was his second kill--not that the slayer authority would ever count this one.

And then, at last, he was at the wall. He knew it was the right wall--knew that this one wouldn't open into more halls or chambers, but into the outside. Knew it from the smell of sea salt, as well as other more unpleasant smells such as rotting fish and raw sewage, that sharply assaulted his newly-sensitive nostrils. Outside was the harbor...the city...

Home...

The question now was how to get out. Roxas knew he'd gained strength from his transformation, but wasn't sure if he was strong enough to punch through a concrete wall. He supposed he had no choice but to test it, though. If he dawdled too long, he was sure he'd be caught, and while no one had started chasing him yet...he knew that was just because he had the element of surprise. That'd quickly change if he didn't try anything, _now_--

So Roxas flung himself at the wall, hand clenched in a fist, closing his eyes and praying with all he had that this would _work _and he wouldn't end up breaking every bone in his hand...

_Crunch. _

Roxas slowly cracked his eyes open, staring incredulously at the wall--no, at the gaping hole in the wall now. His own hand was still extended in front of him, the knuckles cut and scraped somewhat from their impact with the wall--but otherwise, he was fine. Having trouble believing what he was seeing, Roxas continued staring at the ground--at the crunched-up pieces of concrete lying beneath his feet--and then at the jagged hole he'd created.

But he couldn't delay for too long. He was running out of time and he knew it; several presences, stronger-feeling now, were beginning to head in his direction. So, taking a deep breath (though he really didn't need it), Roxas climbed into the hole he'd opened, and leapt out.

He landed on his feet, even though the fall was his height at least, and before he would have probably hit the ground and rolled instead of landed upright and gracefully as a cat. Roxas didn't bother thinking about the ease of his landing, though; now that he'd escaped, his veins were pumping full of adrenaline and all rational thought had been banished, banished save the strong desire to head, like a moth towards light, like a planet following the sun--

--_home._

No more conscious thought. Just turning, and running, as the salt tang of the sea rang in his nostrils and a gentle breeze stirred his hair, and the cold stars above peeked through dark storm clouds to illuminate the night as brightly as day to Roxas. He turned in a familiar direction, as a needle always returns North, and faced the dark streets spread in a labyrinth ahead of him.

He didn't know what he was going to do after he went there. It didn't matter anymore. He'd go there first, and that was that. He'd go to Axel's home, _his _home, and somehow make amends. Somehow.

There was no time to think about that "somehow", though, as he took off in a swift run, comfortable under the night sky, his every stride gliding like wind...

* * *

Xemnas had been curled comfortably next to Saix, running his hands through his partner's hair, hair as soft as his fur in his wolf state, allowing his mind to wander but always returning to the lithe, taut as a bowstring, body beneath him. Being with Saix was almost like a reprieve for Xemnas, a reprieve from his daily business of watching, protecting, leading, always leading, his coven...

With Saix, he didn't have to think. He didn't have to think about anything except the pleasure Saix could bring in the form of his animalistic roars and growls, in the form of violent climaxes that could make Xemnas's vision descend into a haze of thoughtless glory; he didn't have to think about anything but the comfort Saix could bring now, curled up naked beside Xemnas, fast asleep.

Xemnas didn't need to sleep, but he cherished these moments nonetheless. Lying beside Saix in the dead of night, with nothing on his mind but the delightfully warm body beneath him...it was these moments, and these moments only, when the Superior could feel almost...almost _relaxed. _Almost..._content._

But then that content moment was rudely destroyed when a loud knock sounded from the door.

Saix stirred in his sleep, grumbling discontently. Xemnas, feeling just as discontent, pulled himself away from his lover and strode to the door, not bothering to get dressed again. He had no reason to feel embarrassed, after all, in front of all these lesser vampires.

It wasn't a lesser vampire waiting for him, though, but a bat, small and leathery and brown--the familiar of a lesser vampire. Xemnas extended his arm, and the bat took a perch on his hand, watching the Superior with its dark beady eyes before opening its jaws wide and speaking--not moving its jaws, but allowing a voice, strangely echoing and almost obscured by a din of background noise, to rise from its throat.

"Superior. The incubus traitor's servant has fully awakened and has escaped."

That was the end of the message; all that the bat's tiny brain could hold. It flew off after it finished delivering its master's message, disappearing into the darkness of the hall beyond. Still, the message was enough. Enough to break Xemnas's relative calm and for him to realize that the little incubus Ienzo had unleashed more monsters than one--

"What must we do?" Saix's voice was rough, but quiet; querying. Xemnas didn't need to turn around to see the werewolf standing behind him, naked as Xemnas was, watching him expectantly.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Xemnas, slowly beginning to turn around, his silver hair swinging like a stately curtain around his face, obscuring his expression from scrutiny. "We must mobilize the coven to search for this half-made servant. And also, Saix...see to the incubus Ienzo for me. He is to join the search as well...after all, a good master takes responsibility for his servants..."

"Yes, Superior." In a flash, Saix was a wolf again, blue-furred and elegant, sliding around Xemnas's legs to exit the room. He paused halfway down the hall, to throw Xemnas a questioning look, which Xemnas returned with a sigh and a resigned shake of his head--_Go on ahead, do it. I will join you shortly. _He didn't need to speak to communicate his intents to Saix; something he appreciated greatly.

Xemnas sighed again, and buried his face in his hands, still shaking his head slowly. "What a headache you are, little Ienzo," he said resignedly...but had to admit there was something..._interesting_...about this strange but passionate incubus. Xemnas didn't think he'd ever been challenged this much before by _anyone_, human or werewolf or vampire...

And Xemnas, while enjoying his peace and relaxation quite a deal, enjoyed his challenges even more.

* * *

"Something's happened."

Demyx turned in Zexion's direction, surprised that Zexion was speaking again--since they'd spent the past...well, who knew how long, but it felt like an hour at least...in silence. Silence because Demyx had nothing to say, and felt that Zexion preferred his silence, anyway...he'd seemed deep in thought, his head lowered, one arm folded across his chest and the other resting on his chin. Also, Demyx had the strange thought that both were being silent in an effort to maintain self-control--Demyx trying not to pee (because even after their nice little romp, the urge had _not _gone away), Zexion trying not to, well, _eat _Demyx. But now, Zexion had jerked out of his silence, his eyes meeting Demyx's, his expression serious.

"Huh?" said Demyx, blinking blankly back, idly thinking that Zexion's eyes were quite a beautiful shade of blue, dark and fathomless as a silent lake...

"Something's happened," repeated Zexion, in as strained and serious a voice as before. He turned toward the door to the room, and jerked his head into a nod. "Out there. Something...I don't know what, but many vampires are becoming uneasy...gathering somewhere...."

"What?" Now Demyx's full attention had been caught--he could even ignore, for a moment, the overwhelming urge to go. He stood up from the bed, moving closer to Zexion--but Zexion took a step to the side, evading Demyx. Demyx was hurt, until he realized that Zexion had probably just saved his life.

_I shouldn't come closer...he's a hungry vampire...and even if he controlled himself for...for _that_...who's to say...it'll last?_

So Demyx kept his distance, even while he still longed to stand close to Zexion, with his arm around the incubus's slender waist, breathing in Zexion's beautiful scent...

"I don't know what...oh! Damn it..." And then, Zexion's stance changed--he tore himself from the wall with a motion too fast for Demyx to see, and moved in front of the door, dropping into a low, defensive postion, almost a crouch. Demyx was almost terrified by the change that had come over Zexion; he'd _never _seen the vampire like this before. So...so fierce, with a snarl on his face and his claws outstretched before him...almost like Zexion wasn't _thinking, _but reacting instinctively, becoming an animal...

"Zexy...? Zexion, uh, what's happening...?" stammered Demyx.

He got his answer when the door flew open with a bang--and Saix stepped in.

Zexion leapt so fast he was a blur--but Saix was faster, snatching Zexion by the wrist and bearing the vampire down to the floor with a single, almost bored, motion. Zexion hissed when he collided with the hard concrete, and tried yanking his arm out of Saix's grip, but Saix held tight, his face dispassionate...but judging by the sounds Zexion was making, changing from indignant snarls to pained gasps, he was clenching his hand tighter and tighter around the vampire's wrist...

"Ridiculous, incubus, to think that _you _could stop _me_...?" said Saix, his tone bored, injecting none of the contempt the words implied into his voice.

"Ngh...d-damn you...feral dog..." hissed Zexion, making another futile attempt to jerk his arm out of Saix's clutches. All that accomplished was getting Saix to tighten his grip, if the drawn-out cry of agony Zexion emitted seconds after his attempt was anything to go by.

"Hey! Hey!" called Demyx, windmilling his arms in a silly effort to get Saix and Zexion's attention back to him. He might not know what the hell Saix was, but still..._Saix was hurting Zexion. _And Demyx _had _to stop that, no matter what. "Hey! Cut it out! What're you here for, 'cause I really gotta--"

"But I suppose I can't fault you for your reaction," continued Saix in as dispassionate a tone as before, pretending to ignore Demyx, releasing Zexion's wrist. "You _are _a creature of your instincts, after all..."

"Not as much as _you, _mutt," hissed Zexion, clutching his wrist tightly but never removing his gaze from Saix's face--a gaze suffused with dark, near animalistic, loathing. Demyx shuddered, not quite understanding Zexion's fury. It _scared _him...he'd _never _seen Zexion so angry before...

Then, again before Demyx could see, Zexion had flown across the room from the force of Saix's blow, slamming into the opposite wall and sliding back to the ground again, his head lowered, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. Demyx ran to Zexion before he could think about what he was doing, heart feeling ready to burst from concern.

"Zexion! Hey, Zexy...you okay?" he called, taking Zexion by the shoulders and shaking him--not bothering to think that this gesture would probably just hurt him more. Not bothering to think that he'd just gotten close...

"D-Demyx...back away..._now_..." To Zexion's credit, he didn't try _kicking _Demyx as he had the first time, but there was no mistaking the dangerous intent burning in the depths of his dark eyes--and Demyx immediately followed Zexion's order, taking several reluctant steps back.

"Oh, my, isn't _this _sweet," cut in Saix sarcastically, dragging Demyx back into his present situation--namely that "something was happening" and _Saix _was here, for some unfathomable reason. "And remember, incubus, I am not as pleased to humor your disrespect as the _Superior _might be..."

"What's going on? What do you want?" demanded Demyx, trying to ignore how high-pitched his voice was, how panicky his demands sounded...

"Simple. I do not want _much_..." said Saix, and was it just Demyx's imagination or did his golden eyes narrow, dangerously, as he beheld Zexion still slumped against the wall...? "But I have come here as the bringer of bad news, unfortunately. Unless you were planning this all _along, _incubus...I wouldn't put it past someone like you."

"What...?" Zexion looked up, genuine confusion shining in his eyes--reflecting the confusion swirling within Demyx.

"To put it simply..." Saix took a threatening step forward, then two. "...your servant, incubus...has _escaped."_

* * *

Dun dun...wonder what _Demyx _thinks about it all, given that Zexy has yet to explain anything to him...?

Well, you'll have to wait quite some time (most probably after the Jan. 24 SAT) to get an answer. For now, though, here's the preview for the seventeenth chapter (called "Chase", and not after a _House _doctor). For the first time, it's more than one paragraph, but don't think I'll be changing the format of my previews for the rest of the story. Just felt you needed a long preview to tide you over for the long wait...

_Saix turned, and wordlessly pointed at Zexion. Still, the gesture was enough--enough to cause Zexion's slender shoulders to stiffen and for him to take a startled step back. Demyx almost wanted to step forward and drape a protective arm around Zexion's shoulders--but had enough self-control to hold back, and just stand, and wait...wait for Xaldin to turn slowly in Zexion's direction, the sadistic glimmer even more pronounced in his purple eyes._

_"What is this...? An incubus? Your name?" said Xaldin, drawing his words out with exaggerated slowness as he approached Zexion, closing the distance between them with each heavy, deliberate step. _

_"Ienzo, sir." Zexion's answer was quiet and strained, and he did not look up to meet Xaldin's gaze, even as Xaldin was looming directly above him. Demyx was suddenly struck by how...how small Zexion appeared, in comparison to the large and powerfully-built Xaldin...he almost wanted to warn Zexion, but of what?_

Soooo...until I update, enjoy what's up so far. And remember to review!


	17. Chase

**_Tainted But Beautiful_**

Part 2: The Secrets

_17. Chase_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: I am so _incredibly _sorry for the long delay; it's just that I caught up in a ton of things, one after another, wham wham wham. I know I promised January 24th, but what I didn't realize at the time was that only a week after the SAT was the Academic Decathlon regionals tournament, so I spent that entire week cramming, and then after regionals, our team made the state tournament so we've been studying like all hell (State is March 6th to 7th, so...not very far off). Not to mention schoolwork hit me like a tornado, and, well...

I apologize deeply for the lack of updates. Seriously, it's been so long that not only have I taken the SAT, but I've gotten my scores back! Overall, I can say I'm _very _pleased in how I did, especially considering that I (this is what I feel at least...) barely studied.

Anyway, here's a Valentine's Day update for you, though the chapter isn't very romantic. Still, I think you'll all be pleased by the cliffhanger at the end...

* * *

_Your servant has escaped._

It took a moment for the full meaning of Saix's words to hit, given that Zexion's head was still spinning, disoriented, from having been thrown across the room. When it did, though, Zexion bolted straight upright, ignoring the nauseous lurch the motion incited in his head, shouting at Saix:

"What--wait--_how? _How could that have--"

"Why don't you tell _me?" _said Saix, his tone as dispassionate as ever, brushing imaginary lint from his coat sleeve. "After all, it is _your _servant, and as his master, _you _are responsible for him."

Zexion hissed at the tone the werewolf was taking with him--the same patronizing tone all senior vampires used when speaking to incubi and succubi--but could do nothing about it. Not unless he wanted to get _hit _again...and as his head was still ringing from the first blow, he decided not to press the issue further. Instead, he straightened as best he could, staggering to his feet and ignoring Demyx's abortive attempts to help him. Demyx knew to keep clear of him; Zexion was sure he wouldn't have control enough to prevent from biting into the slayer if Demyx came any closer.

"I...I didn't realize..." said Zexion quietly, but realized how weak and pathetic those words were making him sound, and covering his embarrassment with a cough, amended, "How could he have escaped in the first place...? I know that boy. I _made _him. I know that he is too weak to ever escape from here."

"Huh? Who? What?" Demyx's voice kept a deafening stream of loud and stupid queries assaulting Zexion's ears. "What boy? What servant? Made--_who? _What the _hell _are you two yakking about!"

Zexion found it wasn't hard to tune out Demyx. He continued addressing Saix, keeping his voice level, trying not to curl his nose in disgust or--or _worse_--out of his instinctual hatred for the beast standing before him. "I had nothing to do with my servant's escape, if he even _did _escape in the first place, which I highly doubt. In fact, I'd be more than happy to clear things up with you and--and the Superior."

He couldn't help the way his voice trembled when he said the Superior's name. Despite himself...the memory of the Superior's cruelty, of the _pain, _was too recent to shake off.

"Don't be stubborn, incubus." Saix's voice trailed off into a low, animalistic snarl--but then again, wasn't that _appropriate, _given what Saix was...? "The sooner you accept reality, the easier things will be for you. Come, incubus. You are to join the search for your missing servant."

Zexion could see no way out of this situation. But he still--_still_--was having trouble believing it. Roxas was _weak. _That was the heart of the matter. As a human, he'd been weak; as a vampire, doubly so. Half-made vampires, while advantageous because they retained their human cunning, were rarely used because they were far weaker than ordinary vampires and highly volatile, their systems an unholy and unstable blend of living and undead. Zexion was already surprised at Roxas's tenacity, though doubted the boy would be able to hold on till the end of the month. And Zexion really didn't need Roxas anymore; the boy had become superfluous after killing Axel.

_Killing Axel...Roxas as his servant..._ How could he ever explain all of this to Demyx? He doubted Demyx would understand...in fact, Demyx would probably _hate _him if (when) he found out. Now, though...there didn't seem to be a way out of telling Demyx what he'd done. Zexion cast a nervous glance at the blank-eyed slayer, and immediately regretted it; Demyx's scent hit him in one powerful wave, almost sending Zexion to his knees with dizzying pangs of hunger.

"Come, incubus," Saix was saying, turning with a graceful, lupine motion and walking away--not even bothering to check if Zexion was following. He was so used to command that he expected anyone to follow if he ordered it, no question. Well, maybe, thought Zexion with disaste, Saix's _pack _would gladly follow him everywhere...but Zexion was no dog. He didn't take orders from _Saix, _but the Superior...

But Saix's will was the Superior's too. So, with a reluctant sigh, Zexion moved after Saix, his hands in his pockets and head lowered, still confused, still wondering--

"Hey! Wait a sec! _Zexy!" _Demyx's voice, loud and complaining now, snapped Zexion out of his reverie. Zexion cast a bored backwards glance at the human, who hadn't moved from his position against the back wall.

"Stay where you are, Demyx. I'll come back for you," said Zexion shortly, and turned away from Demyx again, continuing to tromp after Saix, even though the werewolf was no longer in sight. Still, Zexion could detect Saix's pungent scent well enough to follow Saix's path without having to see him.

A sudden drift of sea-salt in Zexion's direction stopped the incubus clean in his tracks. He whirled around though he knew it was pointless--he could already tell that Demyx had followed, his expression hard, eyes burning with resolve.

"Zexion, Ienzo, whatever--" _Shit, he's doing _that _again _"--I have no idea what the hell's going on. That's no surprise. But this time--_I am fucking going to find out and you are NOT going to stop me. _Is that clear?"

_Is that clear? _Just like an order.... Zexion fought against the urge to flinch, and nodded mutely, feeling mortified.

"Good. Then let's go." And without waiting for a response from Zexion, Demyx had stomped ahead, looking so determined it was almost ridiculous--just like a soldier marching off to war. Zexion choked back to urge to laugh--as well as the urge to inhale Demyx's scent--and followed a safe distance afterwards, wondering just how he was going to explain _this _to the Superior...

...and how he was going to explain Axel and Roxas to _Demyx_...

* * *

Demyx was completely lost, but when was _that _a surprise? He could only stand back, trying to keep a close distance from all the vampires, as they conversed in voices too low for him to hear and congregated around...

Around a giant hole in the wall. Demyx didn't see what was so interesting about the hole, but the other vampires seemed to think it was the most shocking thing they'd ever beheld. Zexion, in particular, seemed stunned into inaction as he beheld the hole, standing still as a statue, his eyes wide, skin even paler than it usually was. When he spoke, it seemed his lips were moving to form the words, "It can't be," over and over again.

Demyx might not have really comprehended what was going on, but he felt he understood some bits of it, judging by what the other vampires were saying. Some "servant" of Zexion's had managed to escape...but this just confounded Demyx more. What? Wait? _What _servant of Zexion's? Since when did Zexion have a servant? Come to think of it...

Why the hell was Zexion even _here? _Demyx had previously been too caught up in his joy at having met Zexion again to give much thought to the matter...but now he found himself forced to confront it. He highly doubted, after all, that Axel would just give Zexion permission to skip off and search for Demyx like that. It just wasn't something Axel would do...

Though Demyx supposed he had greater concerns at the moment. Such as, well...the fact that he was surrounded by _vampires. _Not quite surrounded, actually, since all the vampires were concregated near the hole in the wall. Still...there were so _many _of them. The most pureblood vampires Demyx had ever witnessed in a group before...and he was surprised by how...how _similar _they all looked. All so pale, their fingers long and clawed, holding themselves so haughtily. If it wasn't for Zexion's slim build and his distinctive hair, Demyx would have lost him among the crowd.

Still...a few others looked different. _Their _skin was rosier, like Demyx's, and seemed to warm and alive. They were all tall and heavy, with sharp golden eyes and feral looks on their faces--and were holding themselves apart from the vampires. Demyx didn't know what they could be...but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were all so very similar to _Saix_...

Saix was currently standing closest to the hole, bending over somewhat to examine it--and sniffing intently. He almost looked like a dog, due to the alert light to his eyes and the way he kept sniffing, over and over again, his nostrils flaring...

"Only around fifteen minutes ago," he said, straightening up, his voice as flat as always. "We may still be able to catch him."

_Who? Zexion's servant? _But again, why would Zexion have a servant in the first place--

For some reason, Demyx began to feel a slight prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and his heart went cold--but he wasn't sure why. Wasn't sure, at least until a horribly familiar, deep, and sadistic voice floated over to his ears:

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

_Xaldin._

The purple-eyed vampire strode forward, his long dreadlocks swinging after him, his every step as light and graceful was the wind. He was smirking, the horrible, sadistic smile that still haunted Demyx's nightmares...the few times he'd been able to get something approximating sleep since his kidnapping, anyway. But it was enough, enough to cause Demyx's knees to go weak and his muscles to feel like jelly...he struggled violently against the urge to fall face-forward to the floor.

_Fainting? C'mon, you're no damsel in distress! Do that and you _know _Zexy will never let you live it down!_

So he stayed upright, though he couldn't help but shiver when Xaldin swept past him, leaving a slight breeze in his wake, to approach Saix.

"This is where the incubus's servant escaped from," replied Saix without preamble. "Surely even _you _must know about that...?"

"Indeed, the Superior detained me to help with the investigation," said Xaldin, sounding as if he couldn't be more bored by the prospect.

"It's the least you could do for your Superior and your coven," retorted Saix, a faint note of irritation sliding into his voice, as if he'd had this conversation too many times already. And judging by Saix and Xaldin's previous conversation...he _had._

"Spare me the lecture," said Xaldin, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. The other vampires had parted around Xaldin, all looking somewhat nervous--though the golden-eyed..._not_-vampires...were merely giving Xaldin contempuous looks, much like Saix was.

"Xaldin, what are we to do?" This was one of the vampires, as pale and haughty as his companions, though he looked a bit nerdy too due to his bowl cut and Coke-bottle glasses. "About this missing half-made vampire..."

_Half-made? What's _that _supposed to mean? _thought Demyx, feeling both confused and disgruntled. Confused, because he didn't know what the vampire was talking about; disgruntled, because he knew no one was going to explain to him.

"Ask _him," _retorted Xaldin, his voice sharp, pointing an almost-accusing finger at Saix. "_He _is the one in charge, after all."

"Erm, ahh," stammered the nerdy vampire, looking nervous. He didn't look at Saix, instead turning his Coke-bottle gaze to the floor.

"You know what _I _would suggest," said Saix coldly. "You and I will divide into two groups, and search the city for the missing servant. We will choose at least four underlings each to accompany us."

"Ah? Is this a race?" said Xaldin, still sounding bored--in fact, he'd started picking at his sleeve cuffs, looking disinterested in all the proceedings. "Whoever finds the escaped servant first gets a reward, or something along those lines...?"

"The reward will be the Superior's favor," retorted Saix. "Something that _you _seem to be in desperate need of..."

"Who says I'm desperate?" Xaldin even emitted a dark little chuckle, as if to show how little he cared for the supposed "reward". "By the way, whose servant exactly is it...?"

Saix turned, and wordlessly pointed at Zexion. Still, the gesture was enough--enough to cause Zexion's slender shoulders to stiffen and for him to take a startled step back. Demyx almost wanted to step forward and drape a protective arm around Zexion's shoulders--but had enough self-control to hold back, and just stand, and wait...wait for Xaldin to turn slowly in Zexion's direction, the sadistic glimmer even more pronounced in his purple eyes.

"What is this...? An incubus? Your name?" said Xaldin, drawing his words out with exaggerated slowness as he approached Zexion, closing the distance between them with each heavy, deliberate step.

"Ienzo, sir." Zexion's answer was quiet and strained, and he did not look up to meet Xaldin's gaze, even as Xaldin was looming directly above him. Demyx was suddenly struck by how...how _small _Zexion appeared, in comparison to the large and powerfully-built Xaldin...he almost wanted to warn Zexion, but of _what?_

"Ienzo, hmm? You seem to be quite a little boy. Barely over a century, am I right...?" Xaldin bent down, somewhat, so that his gaze was almost level with Zexion's; Zexion, however, just responded by lowering his head further, his slate-colored hair hiding his eyes from scrutiny.

"A little less, sir." Again, Zexion's voice was soft and deferent, so low that Demyx could barely hear it. Demyx became aware that he wasn't the only one who was watching Zexion and Xaldin's conversation expectantly; the other vampires (and Saix's not-vampires) had turned their haughty stares to the two conversing vampires, all with anticipatory looks on their faces.

"Ahh, I see." Xaldin unleashed a long, satisfied exhalation that sounded like the wind whistling through hollow tree trunks. "Well, well, Ienzo...what a pretty little thing you are..." As he spoke, he extended a hand and tilted Zexion's face up, stroking the wide-eyed incubus's pale cheek, tracing the curve of his jaw...

Demyx reacted before he could think about what he was doing. As if in a daze, he saw himself leap forward, snatch Xaldin by the arm, and (using more strength than he'd like to admit) wrench the vampire's hand away from Zexion.

"Cut it out! Don't touch him!" he shouted, his words ringing too-loud in his ears, cracking through the hush that had fallen on all the assembled vampires. In that moment, he realized just _where _he was, just _what _he was doing--standing right in the middle of a crowd of vampires--

"Ah? It's you." Xaldin raised his eyebrows slightly, looking bored and contempuous--but there was a tiny gleam in his eyes that Demyx didn't quite like. Behind Xaldin, Saix made a not-very-quiet scoffing noise, but Demyx paid no attention to Saix. His entire being was absorbed in glaring up at Xaldin's mocking purple eyes, his fists clenched into hands, and telling himself that he most _definitely _was _not _trembling like a terrified little girl...

"Demyx...ah...what are you..." Zexion blinked a couple of times, looking as confused as Demyx was feeling.

"What is this, Xaldin?" The nerdy bowl-cut vampire was speaking. "A snack?"

He turned eyes that were all too eager on Demyx...and Demyx realized, with a gulp, that every other vampire present was eyeing him the same way--as if he was the only plate of nachos (complete with steaming gloopy cheese and sliced jalapenos) in the middle of a room of starving linebackers. Which Demyx supposed he basically _was, _in _this _situation.

"Unfortunately, no," said Xaldin, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smirk. "This is my current..._toy. _I don't know his name, but that doesn't matter, now, does it? Now, toy, step aside. Ienzo and I were...ahh...sharing a _moment_..."

He reached past Demyx, the mere brush of his arm knocking the startled slayer back a few steps, to stroke Zexion's cheek again--but then Saix's voice, as cold and dispassionate at ever but now tinged with a distinct layer of disapproval, cut through the silence. "Enough. No more playing. Our first order of business is to locate and secure the incubus's missing servant. Ienzo?"

"Yes?" Zexion stepped lightly away from Xaldin, walking through the other vampires to approach Saix. Demyx remained rooted where he was for an instant--before he realized with a flash of panic that he was, well...right in front of _Xaldin. _That revelation was enough to get him to drift after Zexion (so much like he'd used to drift after Axel...), ignoring the linebacker-wants-nachos looks the other vampires were giving him...

A faint look of disapproval crossed Saix's face, as if he was irritated that Zexion had not addressed him as "sir", like he had Xaldin. But Saix let no irritation show in his voice, which was as clipped and business-like as ever. "You, Ienzo, will join me in the search for your servant. You are the one who made him, so you are the one who will secure him once we find him. Do you understand?"

Zexion didn't reply verbally to this, but just nodded, glancing down at the hole in the wall and then casting a sidelong look at Saix that didn't meet Saix's eyes. "He has a...twenty-minute head start. The boy is not very fast; average by human standards. But I don't know..."

"He has awakened," replied Saix coldly. Demyx hung back watching, hands in his pockets, pretending like he understood even though he still had _no _idea what everyone was yak-yakking about. _The boy...escaped servant...awakened..._the hell?

"What...?" Zexion whirled around to face Saix, looking alarmed. "B-but--ahh...I see. That explains...quite a bit, actually..."

He turned away from Saix again, lowering his head and wrapping one arm around his chest while he raised the other hand to his chin--a pose that Demyx had already become quite familiar with. Zexion was thinking, hard, but about what Demyx didn't know. Demyx didn't know _anything _anymore. He wanted answers, but he wasn't going to get any, not here while everyone behind him was staring at him as if he was more delicious than filet mignon on a Friday night. He probably _was, _to them...

"Er...ahh...incubus." A voice suddenly cut through the pensive (and salivating, on the part of the vampires behind Demyx) silence, and all heads whipped around to face the speaker--the nerdy vampire, who had even raised his hand like he was a student in a classroom. "Out of curiosity, err...how can you detect how far a head start the, the servant has?"

Zexion blinked, looking surprised, but then said, his voice clipped and cold, "He is _my _servant. I should be able to sense him, no matter what...and I have always had a particularly sharp sense of smell." He cast a meaningful look at Saix, who did not return it.

Saix had started giving imperious orders to all the assembled vampires and...not-vampires. "Ienzo, you're with me. You--whatever your name is--" He pointed at the nerdy vampire, who whined something that sounded a bit like "Bartholomew" "--go with Dilan. You and you, with me. You and you, with him. With me, with him..."

It was a bit, Demyx thought, like a gym teacher dividing his class into teams for a game of dodgeball or soccer or what-have-you. Well, Demyx had never experienced such an event himself, having never gone to school...but he'd read enough books and watched enough movies to know what it was like. Even if this _was _a group of vampires and other supernatural beings, out hunting not for a ball but for some "escaped servant" of Zexion's (_Who? WHAT???_)...but still, the parallels were uncanny. And just like in the movies...Demyx was the kid who no one wanted on their team.

"Er..." he coughed, after Saix had finished dividing all assembled into two "teams"--one led by him and the other by Xaldin. Xaldin looked distinctly like he'd gotten the worse end of the deal--he was stuck with "Bartholomew" and several other weaker-looking vampires, while Saix had all the golden-eyed not-vampires, and...well, Zexion. Demyx knew instantly which team he wanted to be on.

"What is it?" Saix was poised right over the hole, looking as if he meant to jump straight out of it, five-foot drop and all. "You're still here?"

"I...er...I wanna go with you," said Demyx, suddenly aware of how _stupid _he sounded, just like a whining brat of a kid. "I'm going to find out what's going on. Zexion. I want to find out."

He was addressing Zexion now, who regarded Demyx expressionlessly, his face drawn. Zexion seemed troubled, though it was hard to tell, what with the way his hair was hiding his eyes from scrutiny. Saix and the others with him, by contrast, were giving Demyx glances that were _definitely _contempuous.

"Demyx..." Zexion spoke after a silence that felt like eternity to Demyx, but was probably less than a minute. "You're in over your head. Go. Leave. Go back to the room; I'll be with you shortly. Don't get too involved. If you do..."

He trailed off, but didn't have to say anything more; Demyx understood perfectly well what Zexion meant. And it _rankled. _Again, yet again, he was being condescended, treated like a child who kept pestering his parents with questions, questions the parents didn't want to answer because it was _grown-up business. _But he _wasn't _a child and he'd already explained to Zexion his resolve. Damn it, he was going to get to the bottom of this, and to hell with _anyone _who tried to stop him.

"I don't care. I'm getting involved and you can't stop me," snapped Demyx, trying his best _not _to sound like a petulant child...trying his best to ignore the stares boring into his back, especially a sadistic purple-eyed stare... "I'm coming with you. And you might wanna explain to me just _what the hell _is going on. Like, this 'servant' or whatever of yours, and how the hell you got here in the first place..."

Was it just Demyx's imagination, or did Zexion blanch at those words, turning even paler than his usual icy shade? Never mind that, though, because Saix had just stated, his tone bored, "Very well; your little human pet can come with us, incubus. Keep him out of trouble."

Any protest Demyx had to being referred to as a "pet" died in his throat when Saix, right before him--_transformed_ into a wolf, a large and graceful blue-furred wolf with a cross-shaped scar on its muzzle--

--and was _then _followed by the other golden-eyed...people...no, not people--_werewolves, _Demyx realized with a flash. Four wolves leapt through the hole after Saix, all lithe and powerful, their coats colored variously, seemingly based on the hair colors of the humans they'd transformed from. Demyx watched, his head spinning, feeling his knees grow weak. _Werewolves. _Well, Demyx had always known about the existence of werewolves, but had never cared; werewolf hunters dealt with the wolves, _he _dealt with vampires. That was that and that was the way things were...

...and hadn't Axel taught him that werewolves and vampires _hated _each other? That they competed over resources--namely, humans--and generally tended to kill each other on sight? Then what was--why was--what the hell--

This time, the look Zexion gave Demyx was closer to exasperation. Demyx didn't feel annoyed, but in fact, let out a relieved sigh--he was much more used to _this. _But he didn't have time to think any further before he felt a cold hand close around his wrist, and drag him, and--

"Whoa! What the _hell?" _screamed Demyx as the ground flew up to meet him and the wind rushed past his ears, causing his hair to fly in his eyes--

Zexion landed gracefully, on his feet, but Demyx sagged in the vampire's grip and fell down, banging his knees on the ground and letting loose a stream of startled expletives. He stopped mid-curse, though, when Zexion laughed--a light, low sound, a sound that Demyx had only rarely ever heard from Zexion before. He sounded..._happy. _Genuinely happy...

"You're already in over your head, don't you think?" said Zexion, flashing Demyx a smile that, while brief, caused Demyx's heart to leap to his throat.

It took Demyx a second to unstick his heart, which he managed with a few loud coughs and wet _ahems_. The wolves, who were impatiently circling the far end of the dock, turned in his direction, looking somewhat startled by the sounds. Demyx turned his attention back to Zexion, who'd released Demyx's hand and was standing a little ways off from Demyx, his hands in his pockets and watching Demyx carefully.

"Um...I don't care," Demyx said when he was able to speak--and cursed himself for sounding so _stupid. _"I'm coming with you, Zexion. That's final, and you can't stop me."

_Just like a brat_, said that quiet, sardonic voice in his head--a voice he hadn't heard for so long. Demyx almost jumped in surprise at hearing it again, but had enough self-control to not make a fool of himself like that. He instead began to follow Zexion as the incubus turned and headed the direction of the wolves. The night was cold, and a breeze that smelled of the sea--along with other unpleasant things like motor oil and sewage--carressed Demyx's face, but he found he didn't care much about his surroundings.

No, the only thing he cared about was the upcoming chase. Were the answers he was going to get from Zexion, come hell or high water.

* * *

Roxas stood in the middle of a wide, brick-paved square, feeling utterly alone in the night. During the day, this pavilion would be filled with happily chatting families and couples and strolling pedestrians, out to enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful statues and fountains littering the square, or else shopping at the many boutique stores lining the broad plaza. Axel had occasionally taken Roxas to this place, mostly to sightsee and buy food, and in Axel's case, make nasty comments about the rich ladies tottering around on heels, carrying Nordstrom bags and followed by poodles.

Now, though...in the middle of the night, the square had acquired a different feel. A darker, near-sepulchral feel... The hour was late, so late that not a single light as on, and the one security guard in the kiosk at the end of the square was fast asleep, despite reeking of stimulants and coffee. Roxas unconsciously began moving in the guard's direction, drawn by the man's scent, crossing the pavilion with slow, careful steps, aware of the darkness, the silence...

Aware of how _alone _he was. How small he felt all alone there under the blank stares of the towering department stores surrounding him on all sides. Still, he swallowed down his apprehension. Once he crossed the square, he'd soon be in Axel's neighborhood, and from then on...

He could find the house. Axel's house. _His _house. His..._home._

That knowledge was enough to invigorate Roxas, and he started walking faster, lengthening his strides, anticipation pounding in his every frozen vein. Soon he'd be home again. Who cared what happened then...he could deal with it all. He still didn't know why he was going there, but it didn't matter. He'd _be _there, and that would be that. Maybe he would be going there to die; Roxas found he didn't mind the idea much. If he could die where Axel had died, well, that would be almost like being with Axel again.

Roxas was almost upon the central fountain in the square--an elaborate affair involving three topless dancing mermaids--when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, the night breeze having blown a distinct scent to him.

No, more like _several_--but he didn't get any time to distinguish them before a mass of fur and muscle came hurling straight at him, with all the force of a ten-ton truck. He tried to yell but the shout was stuck in his throat, coming out as more of a gurgling exhalation, but then he had no time for any other sounds before the wolf was upon him, bearing him down to the ground with a resounding crash.

Desperation and adrenaline flared through Roxas's veins, invigorating his frozen limbs, and with a feral snarl to match the wolf's, he attacked it, driving his knee into his stomach and tearing at its muzzle with his claws. It growled under his ferocious attacks, sinking its claws deeper into his shirt, but Roxas didn't care--didn't even register the pain when ice-cold blood began flowing down his chest. He didn't care--_nothing _mattered--nothing but getting the horrible wild _dog _with its reeking musky scent _off_--

One desperate kick connected with the wolf's side, followed by a sickening crunching sound--and the wolf flew off Roxas in an instant, letting out a high-pitched yowl of agony. Roxas yanked himself to his feet, breathing hard, no longer thinking, allowing his instincts to take care of everything for him--he glanced around, his hands curling into fists, scanning the horizon for more enemies...

Two more wolves sprang for Roxas, but he was prepared--the boy jumped on to the fountain, creating a tremendous splash of freezing water, and began scaling it, until he was near the very top. The wolves took this in stride, leaping toward the fountain as well--but scattered with startled yelps when Roxas tore the head off one of the mermaids and hurled it straight at them.

The two wolves began circling the fountain again, ducking and dodging whenever Roxas threw pieces of the fountain at them--heads, arms, he didn't care. The first wolf that had attacked Roxas was lying off to the side, breathing hard; it seemed injured. Good, he thought savagely.

"C'mon, have at me, you nasty _mutts," _he snarled in a feral voice that was not his own, so twisted with rage-from-adrenaline it was. "C'mon, what are you waiting for, what are you doing, whimpering like whipped dogs, pathetic--"

But then a new presence floated to Roxas's senses--and he stiffened, feeling his insides constrict with a horrible cold gripping sensation, as if a freezing hand had just reached inside his chest and squeezed, _hard._

A vampire was striding towards Roxas, a vampire whose darkness-and-blood, moonlight-and-violets, scent was horrifically familiar to Roxas. It was...it was...the scent of his _master. _

He hated to think of it that way, but it was _true. _He knew it instantly, with a quivering in his blood that went beyond mere thought. He knew that if his master commanded...he would _have _to obey. Without question. No matter what the order was--after all, Roxas needed no further confirmation of the vampire Zexion's power over him after he'd been commanded to kill his very own mentor...

...the man he _loved_...

"Come down from there, Roxas." Zexion's voice was sharp, clear, and cold--like ice. He seemed to be almost glowing in the night, his pale hair and skin and shirt standing out starkly against the darkness. The vampire approached with slow, but confident, steps, a beckoning hand held out in front of him, his dark eyes hard and commanding... "Come down. That's good. Come down. Come, Roxas."

Roxas hissed, biting the inside of his cheek and not caring when he drew his own foul blood. Despite himself, despite all of his best efforts...Zexion's orders were _working. _Against his will, he slowly unlatched his hands from the sides of the headless mermaid he'd been clutching, hating himself as his legs began moving downwards, carrying him back down to where Zexion was standing at the base of the fountain, hand still oustretched, while the two wolves continued to circle and snarl...

Roxas had never hated himself more than when he took Zexion's oustretched hand, feeling the vampire's slim and ice-cold fingers tighten around his own. Zexion was smiling now, a soft, insidiously pleased little half-smile that caused something to burn within Roxas--something horrible, something _furious_--

But he could do nothing about it. With the greatest reluctance, he stepped down from the fountain, still clutching Zexion's hand, his _master's _hand...

And then a scent drifted towards Roxas that cleared his head of all hatred of the vampire standing before him, and caused his mind to swim in utter bewilderment.

"Zexy! Damn it, what the hell are you doing, just leaving me be--what the _fuck? _Holy...what the hell is..._Roxas!"_

The man's voice was high-pitched with astonishment, his bright blue eyes wide as saucers, his face pale. But Roxas immediately recognized the messy blonde hair, the eyes, the build, the face that was usually in a cheerful smile, not stricken by shock as it was now...and the scent, the smell of sea-salt and a gentle ocean breeze...

_Demyx._

Roxas felt a million things--startled and horrified and relieved and concerned and mortified and more than a little sick...but above all, he just felt _overwhelmed_. He was aware that he was still holding Zexion's hand, but couldn't find any initiative within himself to let go. He just wanted to sink to the floor, sink there and die from _everything, _everything that was happening, he'd never meant for any of it...

"I don't--Zexion--what is--what the hell--Roxas--is he--wait...oh my _God _Zexion you did _not!" _Demyx's voice had become near-hysterical, and he kept glancing wildly around, back and forth, from Zexion to Roxas to Zexion again, looking even more overwhelmed than Roxas felt. Suddenly, the dominating emotion within Roxas became pity; he felt _awful _that Demyx was seeing this. Was seeing him like this...

"Demyx, you would be amazed at the things I have done for you," said Zexion, his voice quiet. He had released Roxas's hand by down, and had turned to the side, lowering his head so that his hair hid his eyes. But he couldn't hide the faint trembling that had arrested his entire body, nor could he hide how he'd gone paler, whiter than snow, upon Demyx's words.

"Zexion! What is--what the fuck--what did you _do _to Roxas!" screeched Demyx, now turning his gaze to Roxas. No doubt, Roxas thought bitterly, drinking in his new pallidness...the claws on his hands...the fangs that he was sure were protruding even though he'd clamped his mouth tightly shut...

"I'll explain later. Not now. Later." Zexion still sounded quiet, still sounded strained beyond imagination. Roxas stared at the vampire--his _master_--with something akin to pained helplessness. He was startled that he was...feeling _bad_...for Zexion. Why the hell _should _he? The vampire had ruined his life, had turned him, had made him kill _Axel_...but nonetheless Roxas couldn't quash the sudden feeling of sympathy that had risen within him when he saw how _abject _Zexion was, how he kept trying to avoid Demyx's gaze, how he was trembling harder than ever before...

Roxas was so distracted by his own confused feelings for Zexion that he didn't notice the two wolves approaching them--at least not until they dove dove straight at him, knocking him over and slamming him face-down to the ground.

"What--what the _hell!" _yelled Roxas, or maybe Demyx or even Zexion; he wasn't quite sure. All that mattered to _him, _was fighting, struggling to throw off the overwhelming weight of the two werewolves atop him, scratching, snarling--he felt a sharp flare of pain near his shoulder and realized with a flash of panic that one of the wolves had just _bitten _him, bitten and not let go--

"Get off! _Off!" _This was Zexion's voice now, though near unrecognizable with panic and anger. "Get off! We've found him! There's no need for--for _this! _Off of him! _Now!"_

The wolves wouldn't listen, though, attacking Roxas even more relentlessly--both were biting him now, snapping their horrible jaws and working their sharp canines into his flesh--he wanted to _scream, _to just curl up in a ball and scream so hard his lungs burst--it _hurt_, it _hurt, _and he couldn't do anything about it, he was dying, he was being _killed_--

Then three shots sounded in the distance, ringing in Roxas's numb ears like cannon fire--

--and then one wolf fell off Roxas's body with a prolonged yowl of agony, and the other followed soon after. They crumpled into the ground around Roxas, trembling in the throes of death, their slick blood flowing forth from beneath their prone bodies and staining the bricks. Blood that had come from bullet holes, two in the first wolf and one in the second, the bullets still visible and glinting silver...

A scent then hit Roxas's nostrils--a scent that almost sent him falling face-down to the ground in shock. It was a scent that he'd never smelled before but knew immediately, with something beyond knowledge, with something beyond _instinct; _a scent he recognized--a scent like smoke, like fire, like spice and shadows--

_No. No. This can't be. I'm...I'm dreaming. That's it. I'm dreaming. I have to be. I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming..._

But when he dared to look up, at Zexion and Demyx, he saw with a cold jolt that they, too, were staring--Demyx with just another look of stupid shock on his face, and Zexion whiter than Roxas thought a person could be, his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes huge with something close to horror, looking...

Looking exactly like he was seeing a ghost.

Roxas knew what he would see, even before he turned around with a stiff, near-reluctant, slowness. Knew it, even before the voice--the voice that had whispered in his ears so many times these past days, encouraging him, lecturing him, admonishing him--floated through the silence to greet him. Knew it, knew everything, even if it defied what he'd seen, what he'd _done; _even if it defied logic itself--

"Remember, Roxas, werewolves are as weak to silver bullets as vampires are, if not more so. Got it memorized?"

At the far end of the plaza, striding steadily towards him, a gun casually slung over one shoulder and a familiar confident smirk on his face, one hand in his pockets, his eyes glinting green and amused--

_--was Axel._

* * *

HA HA HA HA. I'll leave you all to process that cliffhanger for a while...

The eighteenth chapter, "Slayer", is one of my favorites so far, not the least because it's the most plot oriented and we _finally _get some answers to some major questions (in particular....why Axel's alive and well). Plus, it's got a wonderful Zemyx moment, so yeah. Preview here:

__

"Z-Zexy, oh God, Zexy, Ienzo, oh God, oh God, Ienzo, Zexion, oh God..." Senselessly, over and over again, Demyx whispered Zexion's name, shaking in Zexion's gentle but strong embrace. Somehow, being able to say the vampire's name, all of his names, comforted Demyx. Helped him stay fixed to the spot, helped anchor him to the earth, helped ground him. He even felt that as long as he could do this, as long as he could cling to Zexion and speak Zexion's name, everything would be all right. He could face anything. He could live through this, he could survive the brutal destruction of all his hopes and dreams...

I hope (no promises, though...) that I can update once more, around Monday-ish (since I don't have school that day), but after that...well, I feel awful for saying this, but I don't expect that I can majorly update this story until _late April. _I know!!! That's awful, but...what can you do...I myself had no idea junior year would be so...rrrgh. So _demanding. _But around April is when I get the ACT and the AP tests done with (as well as the NCTE writing contest; I'm not sure though), so hopefully I should be able to get some major updating done then. Because I _do _plan on finishing this story; I'm not going to orphan it, this I swear.

Until next time, and keep reviewing, I love you all my wonderful reviewers!


	18. Slayer

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_18. Slayer_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Quick President's Day update! And first of all, I'd like to thank every one of you reviewers for helping me get over 200 reviews--the first time any one of my stories has received so many reviews. Overall, I've been overwhelmed by the response to this story; certainly when I first set out to write it I didn't think it would be this popular. So thank you all, and treat yourself to (fat-free, calorie-free) e-cookies!

Now on to the chapter, which I imagine you're all looking forward to on account of Axel's reappearance...and don't worry, there _is _an explanation for it. I feel this is the most plot-intensive chapter so far; and don't worry, we _are _getting answers...so sit tight and enjoy the ride. I hope.

* * *

"Hey, what's with those faces? You look almost like you've seen a ghost..."

The first sensation Roxas felt was--nothing. Just a powerful, overwhelming numbness, rising from the pit of his stomach and tingling through the tips of his fingers, immbolizing him...

And then, disbelief. A crushing tide of disbelief that rose from the very bottom of his soul to knock the breath out of him, to nearly send him to his knees again, to cause his breath to come short and ragged and his head to swim, caused his limbs to shiver from dread and shock and the tiniest, tiniest, quiver of--of _happiness. _Happiness that he was hearing that voice again--_Axel's voice--_

Yet he couldn't _believe _it. Axel was dead, dead, _dead, _Roxas had seen Axel die, had done the deed himself--but yet here, against all reason, defying all logic, Axel was _here, _approaching Roxas with every step, the familiar languid smirk on his face, gun still casually held over his shoulder...almost as if nothing had happened. Almost as if Axel hadn't died, had _never _died...

Wildly, Roxas wondered if this wasn't all a dream--if _everything _had been a dream. Him killing Axel...him being a _vampire_...maybe that had all been one horrible, extended, nightmare, and now it was all over and he was awake again and nothing had changed, he was still happily living with Axel--

But even as he entertained this notion, Roxas knew it wasn't true. He knew that it hadn't been a dream, that it was all real. He knew that the him standing there right then and now--a pallid being, a fanged monster, whose ice-cold blood was splattered over the front of his shirt--was real. Was the _real _him, not some nightmare construct...as much as he might have wished it was.

Still...he couldn't deny that _Axel _was there. That Axel had stopped barely three meters in front of Roxas--and Demyx and Zexion. He was still smiling impishly, but none of the joking quality was in his eyes--there was instead a strange, serious, _ferocity _burning in those green depths, a ferocity that Roxas didn't quite understand...

A ferocity that, Roxas saw with a jolt, was directed towards Zexion.

Zexion was standing perfectly still as Roxas was, his arms by his sides, shaking almost imperceptibly. His head was lowered, so that Roxas couldn't see his eyes, but what Roxas could see of Zexion's face was blanched, whiter than snow, and he seemed to be biting his lip. Demyx, standing a little behind Zexion, was, by contrast, staring wide-eyed--but his wasn't the astonished disbelief that both Roxas and Zexion were feeling; it was a more general, flummoxed, sort of surprise.

But then, with a heavy sigh that seemed to contain all the weariness of his being, Zexion's shoulders relaxed, and he lowered his head further--but the movement caused his mess of slate-blue hair to shift, and Roxas could see his expression clearly. Not surprised, any longer--but--

_Resigned._

Roxas had no idea why, though. Why Zexion's expression had changed so quickly, why he was looking at Axel no longer as if he was seeing a ghost, or a dead man walking, but...but something he'd expected. Something he'd known he would always see...

What Zexion said next didn't clarify matters any further. He simply said, with a slight shake of his slate-colored head, "I suppose...I had always suspected...well, now you are here, and...and it seems that I..."

_What? What is he--? _If Roxas hadn't been confused before...well, now he really had no idea what was going on. He saw his surprise mirrored on Demyx's face, saw Demyx reach out in an abortive motion towards Zexion, say in a low and concerned voice, "Zexy--"

Both Zexion and Axel ignored Demyx, however. They continued to stare at each other, both bearing stony expressions--all traces of the jesting grin had vanished from Axel's face, and Zexion no longer looked so much resigned as serious, strained. At length, after a silence that surrounded Roxas, thick and cold, Axel spoke.

"You miscalculated. You misjudged. Am I right? Wouldn't be the first time, though, would it?"

Zexion didn't seem to react at all to the quiet, near-toneless, words. He simply straightened his shoulders, and replied, in an equally quiet and flat tone:

"No. I suppose it wouldn't."

Roxas turned his gaze back and forth from Axel and Zexion, his mentor and his master, both acting equally as strange at the moment, and couldn't for the life of him think of anything to do, or say. Couldn't figure out what was going on. Couldn't understand; couldn't understand anything.

It wasn't a surprise, but it still...it still made him feel a little sad. The knowledge that there were things that Axel had never saw fit to tell him, important things...

* * *

To say that Demyx was confused out of his wits would be an understatement.

To say that he was lost as a blind camel in the Antarctic _might _be approaching the truth. He simply had no clue what was going on, what everyone was yakking about. What the hell had Axel and Zexion just _said _to each other? And why was Roxas gaping at Axel with a look of utter disbelief on his face, almost as if he was seeing an alien or something equally weird, instead of, well...Axel? Not to mention, why was Roxas...why was Roxas a _vampire _now?

Demyx thought his head would explode; he had too many questions. Worse, he felt that no one present was going to answer them--Axel and Zexion were simply engaged in a silent glaring match, while Roxas seemed equally as confused as Demyx did. Demyx could only hang back, his heart pounding, watching helplessly as Axel and Zexion continued fixing each other with unwavering glowers.

At length, Axel broke the silence. "So, vampire. Why did you come back here? I thought the _logical _thing to do would be to run as far from this place as possible..."

Demyx couldn't comprehend the depth of...of sheer _hatred _blazing beneath Axel's words, like a sharp-edged knife, like crackling flames. But he recognized it, and it scared him...almost unconsciously, Demyx took a step backwards, never removing his eyes from Zexion's back and wondering, _What...what must have _happened _between you two...to get him to _hate _you so much, Zexion?  
_

He didn't voice his question aloud, though. Instead, he kept staring, wide-eyed, as Zexion answered, head lowered, his voice tightly strained. "I...you are right. If I had my way, I would not have returned, but..."

Then, for some reason, Zexion lifted his head a fraction of an inch and nodded, briefly, in Roxas's direction. Roxas didn't even react to the acknowledgment, and Demyx was left even _more _mystified than he'd been before. He almost wanted to leap between Axel and Zexion and scream for them to give him some answers right now or he'd kill them all--but that was nonsense. He could hold his instincts in check...could watch, and wait, and hope that Axel and Zexion revealed all through their conversation.

"But you came back--and hey, you even brought _Demyx _as a snack in case you got hungry, huh?" called Axel, his tone harshly mocking, and Demyx jolted when he heard his name for the first time--and saw that Axel was pointing straight at him, a cold smirk on his face, an unpleasant light glinting in his eyes. For one wild moment, Demyx wondered if Axel had finally lost it...

Not that it was possible to lost what you never had...Demyx brushed this thought aside, though, once he registered the meaning of Axel's words, and shouted in horrified denial, "No--Axel--that's not--"

Zexion said, at the same time, "You're _wrong_--"

Both stopped mid-phrase when they realized that they'd spoken essentially the same thing at the same time. Zexion cast Demyx a brief, wide-eyed glance which Demyx returned with an awkward smile. The light moment was ruined, however, when Axel cut in, his tone acid, "Oh, isn't _that _sweet."

Zexion flushed a little, but caught ahold of himself enough to reply to Axel in the same frigid tone he'd been using before. "I meant it, though. I have no intention of eating Demyx."

Despite himself--despite his present situation--Demyx couldn't help but feel a swell of pride towards Zexion with those words. Even though Zexion was a vampire...a _hungry _vampire...he cared about Demyx enough to not see Demyx as food. He cared enough to refrain from fulfilling his basest instincts...

Sometimes, Demyx wondered _why _Zexion continued to deny that he was in love with Demyx.

Again, though, the moment was shattered by Axel, who retorted with a derisive snort and a shake of his head. "Drop it with that shit, will you? Oh, well...I suppose that's _one _good thing you've done...bringing Demyx back to me alive..."

Zexion swallowed visibly, but when he spoke his tone was quiet, serious. "You do know that was the entire reason that...I did what I did. For...for him. For Demyx."

With the last word, Zexion turned to face Demyx. Demyx took a startled step back, his heart jolting violently--he'd _never _seen that look on Zexion's face. A serious look, a resolved look...yet also a pained one, filled with stark resignation. A nervous look...as if Zexion was about to say something that he knew Demyx wouldn't like...that he was going to tell Demyx the _truth._

A faint, foreboding sensation began to stir in the pit of Demyx's stomach...a sensation he didn't understand and didn't quite like. He turned his head this way and that, taking in the scene...the silent, stiff, Zexion...Axel staring back and forth at Zexion and Demyx with a strange, half-delighted, half-disbelieving, expression on his face...Roxas wide-eyed and completely lost.

The heavy silence was shattered when Axel then threw his head back--and _laughed. _It was nothing like his usual insidiously amused chuckles; the only way Demyx could describe _this _laugh was loud, raucous, ringing with utter delight. A triumphant laugh, a jubilant laugh, a very nearly mad laugh...

"Ha ha ha ha ha! _A ha ha ha ha! _I can't--fucking--_believe_--it! You--you mean you haven't _told _him, vamp? You mean, Demyx has no idea what you did? Go on, _tell him. _Tell him, why don't you, I think it's _rude _to keep information from him! _Tell him!"_

By the end of Axel's speech, all of the triumph had slipped out of the voice, to be replaced by a sharp, commanding tone--one Demyx was already intimately familiar with...one that reminded him, against his will, of those nights when he had tried to "master" Zexion...

Zexion had started shaking his head, imperceptibly at first, but then harder and harder until his hair was flying around his face, yet he didn't seem to notice or care. "No--no--_no_--I can't--I won't--"

_Can't what? Won't what? _Demyx's frustration was rising, almost choking him. He _wanted _to know what the hell was going on, why Zexion and Axel and Roxas were _acting _so damn weird--enough, enough, he wanted to say, tell me already, damn it!

"Tell--" He opened his mouth to speak, about to command Zexion to do the same thing Axel had ordered him to do, the thing that Zexion seemed utterly unwilling to do, but then Axel spoke up, his voice dispassionate.

"What the hell, if you're not going to, guess _I'll _do it. Okay, Dems, here's the short of it, and commit it to memory: _He killed me."_

_He killed me. _The words swept meaningless over Demyx's ears, and he stood there, dumb and uncomprehending, trying to make sense of what Axel had just said. And trying to fight back an irrational feeling of..._anticlimax. _Demyx had been expecting something truly terrible, some awful crime that would justify Axel's hatred and Zexion's silence, but...but instead he got _this. _This statement which was obviously a lie. How could Zexion have killed Axel, if Axel was walking and talking this very moment? Unless Axel was a ghost... Demyx squinted, but the red-haired slayer appeared perfectly solid.

"Come on, Axel--" he began, alarmed by how weak his voice sounded but pressing on anyway, "Tell the truth, it's just mean to do what you're doing--"

"Hold _on! _That's what I _don't _get! If you--if you're dead--then how come you're--how come you're _here, _Axel?"

Demyx whipped around in alarm--Roxas had spoken for the first time. The boy (Or vampire? What?) was facing Axel, his fists clenched into fists, his jaw clenched, his eyes huge and wild and his entire frame quivering. Roxas really looked quite a mess--his blonde hair was sticking every which way and a dark red stain was blooming across the front of his shirt. But Roxas didn't seem to care at all about his physical state; he was just staring directly ahead, ferocity written in every line on his face, trembling crazily.

"You were dead! I _saw _you die! Oh--by fucking God--_I killed you!" _With the last words, Roxas broke down into a choked sob, and fell to his knees, his shaking legs unable to support his body weight any longer.

"Huh? _What?" _If Demyx had been confused before...well, now he was even more lost than a camel in the Antarctic. He whirled around to face Zexion, "But _you _said that _you_--"

"Long story, Demyx," replied Zexion in a low, discontent, mumble, lowering his head so that his hair covered his eyes again. "Please..."

But Demyx had had enough. He didn't even care if Zexion fell to his knees and _begged _Demyx--he was going to find out the truth, regardless of whether Zexion and Axel wanted him to or not. He'd had _enough _of other people witholding information from him, had _enough _of their "you don't need to know" attitude--damn it he was going to get to the bottom of this and straight to hell to _anyone _who tried to stop him. Now...now he was going to get answers. Now. He was going to solve the puzzle that had presented itself the very first time Xaldin had said, "He's a human slayer...he doesn't understand" to him.

"No! _No! _Enough! I'm sick of this--you hiding everything from me! Tell me fucking _now! _Now, now, now, tell me whether you or Roxas killed Axel, and why Axel's walking around anyway if he's supposed to be dead--"

Another anguished sob rose from Roxas at the word "dead", but Demyx was too steaming to care. He stomped across the plaza, his steps ringing in tune to the hammering of his heart, straight towards Zexion. Who gave a damn about mortal danger or whatever, when the _truth _remained to be known? But Zexion started backing off when he noticed Demyx approaching, holding his hands in front of him, fear in his eyes.

"Stop--please--back down--_Demyx_--"

"No! Tell me the truth and I'll back down!" Demyx could barely speak through his rage, his desire to know more. By now, he had backed Zexion against the broken fountain, and there were barely two yards to close between them. Zexion kept glancing this way and that, and kept trying to creep to the side, but Demyx always managed to block any escape route just in time. No...there'd be no getting out of this. Demyx wouldn't let Zexion escape until Zexion answered, answered with nothing short of the whole truth...

"Demyx...there's a time and place for..." Zexion had stopped trying to escape, but had directed his gaze to the side and down, at the ground. His arms hung limply by his sides, and he seemed frustrated...yet resigned at the same time. He had started quivering slightly, yet Demyx found it hard to summon any sympathy beneath the violent boiling of his blood.

"Now's the time. Here's the place. _Tell me!" _And then, recklessly, abandoning all fear for himself, ignoring the fact that this was a starving vampire he'd pinned into a corner, Demyx reached straight out to grab Zexion by the collar--

But was stopped from committing this foolish action by Roxas's voice, shrill with emotion. "Shut up! _Stop it! _You're not--you're not the _only _one who wants to know! Axel--"

Roxas had turned to Axel now, his gaze beseeching but angry, but Demyx hadn't forgotten that Roxas's rage had been directed against _him_ only a few seconds ago... He abandoned his attempt to corner Zexion, and stepped off to his side, now fixing his eyes on Axel and Roxas...that was right, _Axel _would have answers, Axel would answer his beloved Roxas even when Zexion refused to answer Demyx...

"Axel," said Roxas again, and a note of quiet pleading had slipping into his voice. "Please...tell me. Tell _us. _How are you...how are you still alive?"

For the longest time, Axel didn't speak. Nobody spoke--the plaza was draped in silence, a silence so thick and heavy and still that Demyx almost felt like he was choking. He couldn't move; he could only stand there, suddenly feeling chilled to the core of his being though he had no idea why, aware of the darkness spread above him, aware of the cold glint of the stars, aware of the faint night breeze, aware of how empty the pavilion was, aware of how very much he felt that he, Zexion, Roxas, and Axel were solitary planets, pinpricks of life, in a vast and empty universe...

Finally, Axel broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper yet shatteringly loud against Demyx's eardrums, his words meaning nothing yet everything at the same time--

"It's because I'm a vampire slayer."

"_What?" _Roxas's voice rose so high that it almost cracked; undeterred, he pressed in, his face livid, his mouth twisted into a snarl that revealed his new fangs all too obvously. "What the fuck does _that _mean, being a vampire slayer doesn't protect you from _death, _damn it--"

"It wouldn't, not in your case." Axel was still speaking in that strange, quiet, almost solemn tone. It was hard to read his expression, but Demyx was quite sure that none of the old jocularity, or the blind rage, was in his eyes any longer. "Because you're not...oh, fuck, I don't know how to explain this...you're not even supposed to _know _and..."

"I want to know, I don't care about 'supposed to' anymore," said Roxas feverishly, mirroring Demyx's feelings precisely.

Axel unleashed a heavy sigh, and even buried his face behind his hand for an instant--but managed to collect himself quickly and let his hand fall back to his side again, and continued, still solemnly. "Look...you see...I'm not...I mean...you _do _know that there are two kinds of vampire slayers, don't you?"

"What? Really?" For the first time, Roxas's frustration gave way to genuine confusion, and he stared blankly at Axel, his blue eyes blinking. "What does that--"

But Demyx understood. He'd always known it...that for some reason, some strange, uncrossable divide existed between slayers like _him, _the weaklings who could only go after the lowest of the low vampires, and the slayers like Axel and Xigbar and Marluxia, who routinely hunted down purebloods without breaking a sweat. The divide had frustrated him, had angered him, had caused him to throw himself into his studies and training with the desperation of a drowning man, drowning in fear of his own failure. He _had _to overcome it, somehow, had to work hard enough to break through that barrier and become as talented a slayer as _they _all were...

Now, though...Axel was speaking as though there might be another component to the divide, not just hard work and talent. Something else...something deeper... Demyx perked up, pricking his ears and focusing all of his attention on Axel, not wanting to miss a second of Axel's explanation...he _had _to know...

"You understand, don't you, Demyx? The slayers like you...and Roxas..." Axel was now beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable, and Demyx had a faint suspicion why--because the explanation would be something that he wouldn't _like. _His heart began pounding violently against his ribcage, and he tried to quash a rising tide of disappointment... "You're...you're what we call 'human' slayers. Ordinary people...who can kill vampires using special weapons..."

"But you're not human." Roxas spoke the words without inflection, flatly--yet Demyx could feel the horror beneath the words, could see the troubled look on Roxas's face, the quivering of his fingertips...

Demyx understood, perfectly. Sure, there were plenty of times where he'd facetiously entertained the notion that Axel wasn't human--but he'd never _seriously _considered it. Yet, Axel didn't laugh at Roxas's words or otherwise dismiss them. Instead, with a brief jerk of his head, he nodded.

"I...well...yeah. I suppose you could say that...but not really." The discomfort in Axel's face and bearing had increased expontentially, and he seemed to be forcing himself to continue. "Not really...I mean...I'm not exactly...I suppose the best thing to call me would be 'vampire slayer'. No, I'm not a _vampire, _don't give me those faces..."

"He is the heir of a vampire slaying family." Zexion's voice, quiet and strained, broke through the silence, and both Roxas and Demyx whipped around to face him. Zexion was leaning against the shattered fountain, his arms folded, his head down, seemingly absorbed in the cracks in the ground beneath him. "If you haven't noticed already, all of the power in the vampire slaying world seems to reside with the families...and there is a very good reason for that."

"So you know too, hmm?" Axel cast a disinterested glance in Zexion's direction, but then turned back to the trembling Roxas. Demyx, too, realized with a startled jolt that he was also trembling. Trembling, and he'd gone cold inside...cold because he didn't...

Because now that he was going to find the truth...he didn't _want _to.

"Elaborating on what the vampire said...you two, you know about the great vampire slaying families, don't you...? The Florez, the Marchen, my own family, La Monte...but you don't know where we got our power. Well, it's not because we're nobles or anything...or because of talent. It's because...well...you see..."

Axel paused again, and then took a deep breath and plowed on. Each word now seemed unwillingly wrenched from him, as if it was hurting him to speak--but his words hurt Demyx more, hurt and confused him, with every syllable... "You know about vampires, and werewolves. Well, in the past...long ago, before any recorded history...other mythic creatures existed. Like dragons...fairies...unicorns...nymphs...and so on. Each had its own powers, its own magical abilities..."

Demyx had no idea what he was hearing, no idea if it was even true or not. A part of him again wondered if Axel had cracked, but no, Axel's words, every one of them, possessed the ring of truth to them. Axel _was _telling the truth, no matter how insane, no matter how fantastical, it might all sound...

"Well, you know how humans are like. When we want something...we _have _to get it, no matter what." Axel clenched his hand into a grim fist to demonstrate his point. His words were flowing more easily now, falling into the gentle lilt of a lecturing teacher. He was getting into his stride, whether he wanted to or not... "And that's what happened with all those strange and wonderful creatures...humans destroyed them. Hunted them, hunted them to extinction, but not before some managed to preserve secret stores of mythic blood. The blood of the magical creatures could grant any human who imbibed it supernatural abilities, so it was especially valued."

Demyx snuck a glance towards Zexion--the vampire was watching Axel intently, sometimes even nodding in agreement to portions of Axel's story. Well, the two couldn't share the same lie, could they...it must be the truth, what Axel was saying.

"In particular, the vampire slaying families kept stores of blood, and it was the vampire slaying families who knew the most about how to use the blood, about hell, its _existence_. Most people eventually forgot...but the families didn't. Every family kept its own store of blood; the blood of a single mythic creature. When the family's heirs came of a certain age...they would be given several drops, one, or two, or three at most, from the store...and gain the appropriate powers."

Axel stopped, pausing longer than his usual breaks for breath. Roxas seemed to take this as a cue to speak, because he said, in a tiny, strangled, voice, "But...but Axel...that's...I mean..._you _haven't got anything like that, _you're _normal, I would've noticed..."

"_Am _I really normal?" For the first time, a hint of Axel's usual teasing tone entered his voice again, but slipped away as soon as it had come, like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. "I'm not. You see, my family, the La Monte...we use the blood of the phoenix. The firebird."

"The creature able to resurrect itself, to be reborn from the ashes." Demyx turned in alarm, so fast he almost cracked his neck--Zexion had spoken, his tone harsh, still glaring at the ground. "That is why you didn't kill Axel when you stabbed him, Roxas. I had already suspected, but wasn't sure...so to err on the side of caution, I ordered you not to kill him, but to--"

"To stab." Roxas's words were barely audible above the night breeze, but Demyx heard nonetheless,and Axel and Zexion must have too, because both nodded in acknowledgment.

"That is right. And it seems...it seems that my suspicion has been proven correct." Zexion cast Axel an uneasy glance, and then immersed himself in the ground again. "He is imbued with the blood of the phoenix. He can choose to rise from the dead again, if he has been 'killed' in the conventional sense...and so he chose to do so this time. If I had ordered you to kill him...you would have attempted the impossible, and you would have been destroyed in the attempt." Again, another brief, uneasy glance in Axel's direction.

"Yeah, uh-huh." Axel nodded noncomittally, and then turned his attention back to the stricken, silently staring, Roxas and Demyx. "So you see...that's why I'm alive. Because of my phoenix blood..." He had moved his hand to his face, and was tracing the dark markings beneath his eyes, apparently without realizing what he was doing. "That's why I'm a vampire slayer, that's why you guys, you're..."

He broke off with a strange choked sound and shook his head--but then lifted his gaze to Demyx, meeting Demyx's eyes. Demyx took a step backwards, startled by the intensity of the emotion blazing in those green depths--he'd _never _seen Axel like this before, so fierce yet so sad at the same time...

But the torrent of emotions in Axel's eyes only mirrored the similar torrent swirling deep within Demyx. Axel's words were pressing down on Demyx, capturing him, smothering him on all sides, and he didn't _want _them to and didn't want to register them and didn't want to think about what they meant, what they meant for Axel and Roxas and above all what they meant for _him, _he didn't want to, no, no, no--

As if in a haze, he saw himself, seven years old, dashing across a rooftop while a bloodsucking monster of the night chased after him...he saw Axel, red-haired and ten, killing the vampire with a single neat shot...saw Axel extending a hand of welcome to himself...saw the years go by, saw him training under Axel, futilely, always futilely, struggling to best Axel, struggling to become a powerful vampire slayer in his own right...saw himself viciously battling made vampires...saw the effort it took for him to bring down just one...

Saw it all, and, for the first time, understood it all.

"No...no...no, no, no, no no no no _no_..." Demyx became aware of a voice, abject and broken, whispering the same word over and over again as if it was a protective mantra--it took a moment to realize that the voice was his own. It took an even longer moment to realize that he'd fallen to his knees, and that he had begun trembling, and that a cold sweat had spread across his face and the back of his neck...

"Demyx...Demyx, Roxas, both of you, but you especially Demyx--I'm...I'm...I'm...sorry." Axel's voice was almost unrecognizable, so low and gentle it was, so suffused with kindness, with _sympathy. _This time, Demyx knew that the emotion was real, wasn't a game or a farce. He could _see _it, the intensity burning like dying embers behind the green of Axel's eyes...and that terrified Demyx above all.

Because...if _Axel _felt the need to apologize...that truly meant that...it was true. It was true, all of it, Axel had said, and that meant that for Demyx, his dream, his lifelong dream, to become a slayer on a higher level, to become an _equal _to Axel...

_Over._

"Really...I'm really...oh fucking _God, _Demyx, I'm so damn sorry...it's true, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I _know _you had that dream, your entire life, and I'm so sorry to be the one to...I mean...to do it like _this_..." Axel's emotion was causing him to stammer; he most probably had never felt so much, and such genuine, emotion before and didn't know how to handle it. Demyx barely heard Axel's words, though, above the infernal buzzing in his own ears, above the repetition of the same soft, insidious word, over and over again, in his mind:

_Over. Over. Over...it's over. It's all over. Everything. Over. Over. Over..._

"But...hey, look...! You can still be a slayer...I mean, we still _need _human slayers and stuff, to take care of the made vampires for us...! You don't have to give up your dream, you can still be a slayer..." Axel was gesturing wildly now, offering useless platitudes. Demyx heard, though, and slowly shook his head in response.

"No." He was surprised he could even speak--surprised that his voice hadn't even cracked. Slightly emboldened, he raised his voice, pressing on.

"_No. _I don't--you know as well as I do, Axel, that...that's not what I want to do. I want to slay purebloods, I wanna...I wanna..."

He couldn't continue. He let his voice trail off into the blank air, left his thoughts unsaid; his voice had finally cracked and to his shame he could feel a hot wetness gathering behind his eyelids, stinging the corners of his eyes. But miserable as he might be...Demyx didn't want to let Axel see. He still wanted to retain _some _measure of pride...so he stopped speaking, unwilling to trust his words, fearing that if he went on, they would betray him.

Axel's response didn't make matters any better. His voice harsh-edged from pain, Demyx's mentor said, "I'm sorry...so sorry, Dems. Normal people just don't...don't have the speed and the strength and the reflexes to take on purebloods...I know you must want to, no, fuck, I _knew _all along, and I'm sorry for never telling you, but..."

"It is their best-kept secret, Demyx." Demyx jerked, slightly, blinking back the rising tears to see Zexion, still leaning against the fountain with his eyes cast to the ground. But Zexion had spoken with a measure of sympathy to his quiet voice--not the rough pain and uncontrolled emotion that Axel and Demyx were speaking with, but something...something gentler. Something more peaceful, calmer...more reassuring. Somehow, hearing Zexion's comforting tone caused a pinprick of warmth to rise within Demyx's frozen heart, yet...

...it wasn't enough. No amount of sympathy, no amount of comfort, would be enough. Still...what Axel had said before...bizarrely, it had given Demyx an _idea_, a way out of this, out of this crushing of his dreams...and much as a drowning man would seize on a lifeline, he seized at the sudden bizarre notion as the last anchor to his dream. Not raising his eyes from the stone beneath him, Demyx spoke, priding himself in only allowing a minimal trembling to enter his voice, "But...Axel...who says...who says I _have _to be a normal person? Why can't I--why can't you give me some of this blood and I--"

From the corner of his vision, Demyx saw Roxas jolt a little, and his eyes widen in--in eagerness? But of course, Roxas would be feeling similarly devastated...being a vampire slayer had been _his _dream as well. At least until he'd become a vampire...apparently by Zexion's doing. Demyx's head hurt too much, though, to dwell on that issue for now. No, at this moment, there was only one thing he cared about and that was--

_Running side-by-side with Axel, gliding as freely as birds from rooftop to rooftop, laughing, guns by their sides, congratulating each other on the pureblood kill they'd accomplished together--_

The second shattering was even worse than the first. Axel simply said, his voice quiet but still rough, "No. I'm sorry, Demyx, but...it doesn't work that way. You see...the blood has to be given very early...when you're very young. I was four when I received my phoenix's blood...you're too old, Demyx, it won't have any effect. Hell, it'd probably _kill _you. I'm sorry, but...but that's...it's the truth."

The truth. A truth bitter and black, seizing at Demyx's insides, tearing him apart atom by atom, destabilizing his soul, _destroying _him... He couldn't believe this, never in a million years had he imagined this, and the worst thing was that Axel had known all along and so had Zexion and they had _never told him. _They had let him believe his dream, engage in his silly delusions, while never once bothering to tell him that the one thing he desired above all else was impossible. Axel, especially...letting Demyx live under his roof for ten years, and letting Demyx trail in his shadow, giving Demyx _all _that false hope...while never informing Demyx of the stark truth of the matter:

_Your dream will never come true._

The cracks in the ground blurred before Demyx's eyes, and then, much to his horror, he found tears, hot and stinging, rolling down his cheeks, falling with gentle _plips _onto the flagstone...and he could do nothing to stop them. He knew, he _knew, _how horrible it must look, crying like a baby in front of Zexion and Roxas and worst of all, _Axel. _Never had he let Axel see him cry before, but he couldn't stop he couldn't _stop _he was shaking too much and the tears were overwhelming him, choking him, overflowing and burning as he came, and he was making all sorts of horrible-sounding noises; not quite sobs, but little gasps and whimpers and sharp intakes of breath that were perhaps even worse, even more pathetic...

_I'll never be a slayer. I'll never be the kind of slayer I want to be. I'll never be able to stand on equal ground with Axel. It was stupid, all along, me and my stupid dream, what an idiot I was, what an idiot I _am, _fuck I should have just burned my license and picked up the guitar, years ago...at least that's something I _can _do..._

"Demyx...oh, fuck, Demyx..." Axel was speaking, his voice low, but there was no comfort in his words--in fact, he sounded _scared. _Scared and hesitant...how ironically idiotic, thought Demyx with a half-choke, half-sob, that the superhuman Axel with his phoenix's blood would be terrified of a crying _human _of all things...

"Demyx..." Roxas wasn't helping matters, either; he sounded at least as scared as Axel did. Maybe a little more sympathetic, but he wasn't moving to help Demyx, either.

But then Demyx caught a whiff of moonlight and violets, and before he could think about what was going on a soft and cool hand had taken him gently by the back of his neck, and another had wrapped around his waist, and drawn him close...close to a small and lithe body, close to the scent of moonlight, of violets, of bitter coffee and blood and darkness. Close to...

_Zexion. _A starving vampire...but Demyx no longer cared about _that. _With a great shuddering gasp, he returned Zexion's embrace, burying his face into the vampire's delicate shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around Zexion's slender back. He was still sobbing--he couldn't stop--but now Zexion was comforting him, rubbing gentle cirlces into Demyx's back, rocking him back and forth, whispering gentle words into Demyx's ear...

"It's all right, Demyx...it's all right...don't cry...no more tears...it's all right, it's all right, don't cry...everything will be all right..."

Of course, what Zexion was saying were lies, lies all, and Demyx knew this with the rational part of his mind. But most of him wasn't thinking rationally. Most of him wanted above all, with an aching deeper than his heart, to believe in Zexion's words, to believe that he'd wake up and this would all have been a horrible nightmare and he'd still have a chance to become a slayer. Most of him ached to be held and comforted, held like Axel had always refused to...

"Z-Zexy, oh God, Zexy, Ienzo, oh God, oh God, Ienzo, Zexion, oh God..." Senselessly, over and over again, Demyx whispered Zexion's name, shaking in Zexion's gentle but strong embrace. Somehow, being able to say the vampire's name, all of his names, comforted Demyx. Helped him stay fixed to the spot, helped anchor him to the earth, helped ground him. He even felt that as long as he could do this, as long as he could cling to Zexion and speak Zexion's name, everything would be all right. He could face anything. He could live through this, he could survive the brutal destruction of all his hopes and dreams...

...as long as he had Zexion.

"Zexion...oh God...when did I...how..." whispered Demyx, managing to speak more coherently now through his drying tears. He was still shaking insanely and could not trust his voice to stay even, but the overwhelming deluge of tears and misery was gone. "When...when did I...when did I come to...to depend on you...so much...?"

"I don't know, Demyx," whispered Zexion in reply. "Perhaps that day when you first told me you loved me--"

Demyx managed a bleary smile, suddenly realizing that this was the closest Zexion had ever came to a confession. Embolded by this realization, he lifted his head from Zexion's shoulder, maneuvered his arm around the vampire's slim waist, met Zexion's deep blue eyes--dark as a fathomless lake--and bent down to plant a gentle, loving, kiss on Zexion's soft, barely parted lips...

But that instant, that beautiful instant when Demyx could believe that everything was right with the world and nothing mattered but himself and Zexion, was brutally shattered by the harsh, sarcastic tones of an unfortunately familiar voice:

"My, my...isn't _this _romantic...?"

Zexion reacted in an instant. With uncommon strength, he pushed Demyx off of him, and a winded Demyx staggered backward, mind reeling and gasping for breath. Axel whipped his gun forward and pointed it threateningly across the plaza, and Roxas tensed--and Demyx realized that all three of them were facing the same direction, towards the head of the plaza...

Barely daring to breathe, still feeling overwhelmed, Demyx turned too--and took a horrified step backwards when he realized just who was standing on the opposite side of the plaza, his hair shining in the moonlight, his golden eyes glinting with an unpleasant light halfway between feral and triumphant...

_Saix._

* * *

Another cliffhanger! Aren't I evil.

So...yeah. That's the reason that Axel's alive. Hopefully, it isn't completely lame or random...and hopefully it makes _sense. _Writing this, I discovered exactly how hard it is to write exposition through dialogue while at the same time keeping that dialogue natural sounding. So the explanation might not have made much sense...and I might have left bits out. Inform me if it's too confusing...

Next chapter, "Blood", will contain even more revelations (about Xemnas, this time). I'm on a roll with revelations here! Perhaps I've been influenced by _Battlestar Galactica _finally deciding to unspool some of its greatest mysteries...not that I'm comparing this story to _Battlestar. Battlestar Galactica. _What a great show. You all should watch it. Ahem, anyway, on to the preview:

_Zexion lowered his head further, not wanting to endure more of the Superior's fury...and he knew, inwardly, that the Superior was right. That this was the reason why he refused to let his relationship with Demyx become just that--a relationship. Because Demyx was a human, and he was a vampire. "You're meat, the lot of you," he had said to Demyx, and that was right--that was all humans were, meat, and Demyx was too, no matter how often he might have protected Zexion, comforted Zexion, kissed Zexion, smiled and said to Zexion, "I love you"--_

Funny how these previews have nothing to do with the plot...but I don't want to spoil anything. Anyway, keep reading and reviewing, thanks tons for the 200, et cetera, et cetera. I'll try to update as often as I can, but no promises.


	19. Blood

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_19. Blood_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: OMGFZ!!! AN UPDATE!!! I know...I just felt guilty for abandoning this story especially because it has so many fans, so I've decided to continue updating it now that I have more time in the summer. I do plan on finishing _Tainted_, this I swear. Hell, it's been so long that my opinions on_ Battlestar Galactica_ have managed to do a complete 180. I hate that show now thanks to the utterly terrible series finale that aired. Talk about _copout! _I hope _Tainted _will have a much more satisfactory ending...

Note that this story will be put on the backburner compared to my serious fiction projects, two of which are in the works--the one I'm mostly working on is a fantasy-science fiction novel with a very epic storyline for which I've already pretty much planned every scene, so the actual writing is going fairly easily. The other is a series of short stories told from seven different first person views, about a girl in love with her gay childhood friend, who tends to pursue abusive relationships. It's very dear to my heart and I've been working on it for quite some time. You can check out both of them on my Young Writers Society account (Bickazer), if you're interested.

I do plan on finishing _Tainted But Beautiful, _though; it's summer so I've got plenty of free time to work on three projects at once! So on with the story. I wonder if anyone remembers what's going on, seeing as it's been so long...XD Something about, hmm, some revelations concerning Xemnas...

* * *

_Damn it..._

Zexion had sunk to a defensive crouch in front of Demyx, snarling at Saix and a combination of fury and adrenaline soaring through his veins--clearly trying to convey the message _back the hell off _to the werewolf. He didn't know how effective it would be, though, since Saix had made it more than clear that he was much stronger than Zexion. There'd be no way Zexion could hold up against Saix in a fight...gritting his teeth, he tried to block out the pain still throbbing in his cheek, where Saix had hit him earlier...

Most of Zexion was beyond logical thought, though. He was propelled simply by two instincts--the deeply-ingrained hatred of the beast, the _dog, _before him, and....and his own desire to protect Demyx.

Saix, however, wasn't moving--he simply stood at the head of the pavilion, surveying the scene with an almost bored expression. Certainly, he had no eyes for Zexion; in fact, it seemed that most of Saix's attention was fixed on the man standing at the very front of their strange gathering, gun aimed straight at Saix's heart and an unpleasant smirk twisting his face.

_Axel. _Of course, Axel would be the greatest threat to Saix at the moment...what were an incubus, a human slayer, and a half-made vampire compared to the heir to one of the most powerful vampire slaying families in the world?

Not to mention the simple matter that Axel was armed, while the rest were not.

"Well, well...." Saix turned a dispassionate gaze towards the two dead werewolves scattered across the plaza, trailing dark blood over the flagstone, and the one injured werewolf, sucking in its last, dying, breaths. "How very rude of you, Axel, killing my underlings like that..."

"Yeah, whatever," retorted Axel, his mouth twisting unpleasantly, anger burning in his eyes. He raised the gun a fraction of an inch. "Hey, why don't you tell me what's going _on, _wolf? Why're you chasing Roxas and--them?"

With the "them", Axel waved a dismissive hand in Zexion and Demyx's direction. Zexion heard Demyx's sharp intake of breath from behind him, but made no move to turn around to see if the slayer was all right--all of his attention, every quivering atom of his being, was focused on the hateful wolf standing before him...

"You're only partially right, Axel," said Saix, his tone still bored and careless. "I was chasing _him_--" a jerk of a gesture towards Roxas "--but _they _were helping me."

"The _fuck?" _Axel whirled around, his coat flapping around him, to face Zexion, his face livid. "Why would you--"

Zexion opened his mouth to protest, somehow, though he didn't know _what _to say--after all, Saix had just spoken the truth. He _had _been helping Saix track down Roxas...although Saix (or the wolves in his pack, at the very least) seemed to care very little if Roxas lived or died. Saix, however, spoke before Zexion could say anything to his own defense--which the incubus supposed was a good thing, given that he'd had absolutely no idea _what _to say.

"I suspect, Axel, that there are plenty of things that you're not aware of..." For the first time, Saix's dispassionate manner changed--his golden eyes narrowed, and when he spoke his voice trailed off into a low, threatening, hiss.

"Tch, I haven't got time to play riddles with you, wolf," snarled Axel in response--and he flicked forward the safety of his gun. "I really don't care who you are or what you want. All I know is that you've been trying to hurt--to hurt _him_--"

And he gestured towards Roxas. Roxas jerked like he'd been slapped, a look of utter confusion on his face--but then his expression brightened, understanding dawning on his face...

"--and I _can't _allow that." Axel cocked his gun again, his finger hovering dangerously over the trigger. "Even if I won't get any credit for this kill..._it'll be entirely worth it."_

"Axel..." whispered Roxas, looking stricken.

With that, Axel fired.

The gunshot shattered through the night, loud enough to cause Zexion's ears to ring and set off a car alarm in the distance. He almost shouted a warning at Axel ("Use a silencer, why don't you?"), but anything he'd been about to say became stuck in his throat when he saw--

Saw Saix simply _standing _there, a streak of blood running down his shoulder from where the bullet had struck but otherwise appearing uninjured. Certainly, he seemed to be feeling no adverse effects from the silver bullet... When the werewolf glanced back up from his shoulder towards Axel again, he was smirking, ever-so-slightly, but the smirk was definitely there and there was no hiding the smug quality in Saix's eyes, twitching in his smirk...

"Is that the best you can do, Axel?" he said, and his voice was laden with sarcasm.

"Damn you to fucking hell!" snarled Axel back in one breath. He raised his gun again and shot--but in an instant Saix transformed into a wolf, blue-furred and filled with feral grace, and leapt readily out of the way of the bullet, which impacted into one of the windows on the Nordstrom behind Saix. The sound of shattering glass rang through the night, but then all was silent again.

Silent, save Axel's fierce, ragged, breathing. Silent, save the tiny choking noises of disbelief Roxas was making as he stared wide-eyed at Saix. Silent, save the sound of Demyx--_hyperventilating, _it seemed--from behind Zexion. Only Zexion and Saix made no noise, merely watching each other through wary eyes, as the wolf-Saix circled the plaza and Zexion tracked his every moment...

"We have him. The servant," said Zexion after some time, electing to break the silence. He spoke slowly, choosing his words with utmost care; somehow, _he _knew he had to defuse the situation, with the only weapon he had--words. "That is enough for you, is it not?"

With a growl, the wolf became a man again, and Saix turned to fix Zexion with a withering, golden-eyed stare. Against his will, Zexion flushed a little, flustered by the intensity of Saix's disapproval...but managed to get ahold of himself and meet Saix's gaze with one equally as cold.

"Hardly," retorted Saix, his tone acid. "There's the matter of the slayer Axel to attend to...not to mention, you _do_ realize that three of my underlings are dead..."

He gestured towards the three dead wolves scattered across the plaza. Zexion replied with a snarl.

"That is _your _fault, then, for not controlling your underlings better. They attempted to _kill _my servant even though we had already found him. I could have taken him from there, but _they _saw fit to attack him. What they got was simply what they deserved."

With that, Zexion turned to the side and folded his arms, as if to show that he couldn't care less about Saix's dead wolves--and truthfully, he _didn't. _Also...he didn't want to see the rage he was sure would be on Saix's face, at hearing a mere _incubus _insult his underlings... Zexion was aware of Demyx making an abortive motion to comfort him, but Zexion was glad Demyx had decided not to--he didn't think he'd be able to handle Saix's reaction if Demyx acted all...well..._mushy..._towards Zexion instead of just hyperventilating like he was now.

Saix, as predicted, wasn't pleased with Zexion's response. He emitted a low, discontent, growl that sounded less human than animalistic, and when he spoke, his words were sharp. "You'd do well to show a little more respect, _incubus."_

Zexion replied before he could think about what he was saying. "I only give respect where respect is due."

He only had time to register a blue bur thundering towards him before he was knocked off his feet and sent flying backwards, slamming hard into the ground. His head made contact with the hard flagstone and stars burst in his vision--Zexion cried out in pain, but could do nothing about it, not when the huge wolf was pinning him down, its claws digging into his chest, its weight pressing insistently down upon him, preventing him from rising...

"_Zexion! _Damn it--_Zexion! _Get _off _him!" Demyx had started shrieking in the background, and Zexion was quite sure the blonde idiot would be jumping around waving his arms and making a complete fool of himself...but Zexion couldn't see Demyx; he could only see Saix's blue muzzle inches from his own face, could only see the hatred blazing in the wolf's feral golden eyes...

"What are you going to do?" continued Zexion; he had no idea why he was still speaking. The best thing to do would be to just shut the hell up and hope Saix took mercy on him, but for some reason Zexion's mouth just kept running against his will. "Kill me? Is that it? _Kill me? _Are you going to kill me for my insolence?"

The wolf snarled, a low, throbbing sound that Zexion _felt _as much as he heard. Then, it raised its muzzle, the fury still blazing in its eyes, opened its jaws (bathing Zexion's face in its horrible stinking breath), and lowered its head, obviously preparing to tear open Zexion's throat with its razor-edged fangs...

For some reason, Zexion didn't find himself fearing death much at all. The only thing he regretted at the moment was not being able to say good-bye to Demyx, but that was all right..._dying _would take care of everything. He wouldn't have to deal with Axel's rage, with Roxas's confusion that was sure to morph into hatred, with the Superior's disapproval--

_The Superior._

"Now, now, Saix...I should think that's enough. Kindly remove yourself from Ienzo, please..."

Zexion felt ready to faint, so overwhelmed he was by the Superior's all-powerful, all-encompassing presence--a dread presence, a presence like the darkness, like heavy fog, pressing down on him on all sides and causing his senses to go haywire, filling him with a horrible sinking sensation...but even as lay helpless, trapped by the Superior's presence, Zexion became aware of a lessening of pressure on his chest...became aware that the Saix-wolf had slid gracefully from Zexion's body, to lope towards the opposite end of the plaza, where...

Where the Superior stood. The Superior, alone, his silver hair gleaming in the darkness, his orange eyes burning like dying suns in the dark expanse of his face, his long coat blowing slightly in the night breeze. He stood tall, radiating power and utter, confident, command--the perfect Superior. A faint ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips seemed to imply that he found the current proceedings amusing above all else.

Saix, still a wolf, padded to the Superior's side, and rubbed against Xemnas's leg almost as a cat would affectionately rub its master. Xemnas unleashed a slight, satisfied chuckle and placed his hand on Saix's head, absently stroking the silky blue fur.

Zexion wasn't mollified, though, by this tender display from Xemnas--if anything, it just made him leap even more to his guard. Slowly, Zexion pulled himself up so that he was kneeling: he didn't stand, as he didn't trust his legs to support him. No, he was shaking too hard...still struggling to draw breath after his encounter with Saix. For a brief moment, Zexion feared he would fall over again--but the smell of sea-salt drifted in his direction, and a warm hand rested on his shoulder, steadying him...

Zexion turned slightly, but knew what he'd see--Demyx standing by his side, his hand on Zexion's shoulder, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face. His eyes were still red-rimmed from when he'd cried, earlier, and there was a quavering, hesistant, quality to his smile--but the intent behind the gesture was clear, and Zexion found it all too easy to return Demyx's smile with a slight one of his own.

That was right...no matter what happened..._Demyx _was there for Zexion... Always.

But then moment was shattered by Axel's voice, raw with disbelief and confusion, shrieking, "_What the hell is going on? Who the hell are YOU???"_

Zexion whipped around that instant to face the Superior, and he knew Demyx had done the same. Now, everyone's attention--his, Demyx's, Axel's, Roxas's, Saix's--was all focused on Xemnas. On the man whom Zexion knew as the leader of the Coven of Thirteen...and on the man whom Demyx and Axel knew as a powerful, long-dead slayer from the early nineteenth century.

"I don't understand!" Axel continued, his voice shaking from frustration-born-of-fury. "The fuck are you--I mean--you're--you look just like--no, you _are_--you're _Xemnas! _But you're--you're _dead!"_

"Is that really so now, Axel...?" said Xemnas, and the amusement in his smirk became even more pronounced. "I wonder..."

"S-Superior." Zexion found that, again, he'd spoken without thinking, the name tumbling unbidden from his mouth. For a moment, he wondered--_hoped, _more like--that he'd been too quiet for anyone to hear, but that moment was quickly ruined when the Superior turned his direction, now looking inquisitive.

"Ahh...Ienzo. What is it?"

Superior..." Despite himself, Zexion flushed bright red; he was just too...too _flustered _to think properly. To deal with the Superior properly...and just what was he, a mere incubus, thinking about, he could never _deal _with the Superior, ever, he could only sit back and accept the Superior's judgments...

By now, Zexion had become aware of the silence, in the utter stillness of the dark night. He became aware of all the eyes trained on his form--aware that everyone was staring at him, intently, waiting for what he had to say. It made him uncomfortable, being on the spotlight right here and now of _all _places, in front of the Superior, yet...yet he could see no way out of this. He had to speak.

"Superior...I...ah...I was wondering...ah..." Zexion had to clear his throat to continue, and shake his head to get his thoughts in order. "Superior...who...what...who _are _you?"

Much to Zexion's surprise, Xemnas replied with a--a chuckle, one of his familiar low, insidiously-amused laughs. "Obviously, Ienzo, I am your Superior."

"I--I know--I am _aware _of that!" Zexion flushed brighter, even more embarrassed--who the hell _was _he, to take that sharp tone with the Superior? But Xemnas looked more amused than disapproving, so Zexion felt free to plunge onwards. "I mean...Superior...I was wondering...after all...to _them, _you are..."

He paused, unable to think of what else to say, how exactly to phrase his confusion...and that worried him. Hadn't he always prided his ability with words? But before Xemnas, before the Superior, at this moment...what could he say? How could _any _word, how could _any _clever phrase, stand against the Superior's steady gaze, the Superior's confident smirk?

So he fell silent, and trusted that the Superior understood what he meant. He was helped, somewhat, though, by Demyx speaking up, in a high voice tinged with something approaching hysteria.

"Y-yeah! Zexy's right--tell us what's going on! I mean, I _know _you're Xemnas and you're the Algieran slayer from the 1820's, so why are you here, and why are you a _vampire? _It doesn't make any sense!"

Zexion turned around slightly to glance at Demyx. The blonde slayer was facing Xemnas, his hands clenched into fists, his entire body shaken, his expression one of mingled confusion and frustration. Zexion sympathized entirely, and almost moved to Demyx to return the earlier sympathetic gesture, and place a comforting hand on Demyx's shoulder, but at that moment the night breeze blew a fresh wave of Demyx's tantalizing sea-salt scent in Zexion's direction, and Zexion's backed down, shaken by the sudden desire that had seized him--the desire to just grab Demyx and sink his fangs into the slayer's neck and lap up his sweet, hot, freshly-flowing blood...

He shook his head to clear it, and took another nervous step backwards, putting more distance between himself and Demyx.

The Superior didn't seem bothered at all by Demyx's near-hysterical ramblings, and spoke calmly in response. "'Zexy', now? That comes from Ienzo's outside name, does it not...Zexion. Zexy. Hmm. How..._cute."_

"That's not what I was--damn you--just answer my question damn it!" cried Demyx, flushing a horrible shade of red rather reminiscent of a beetroot.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zexion noticed Axel watching Xemnas with unusual intentness...and Zexion realized with a cold jolt exactly _why. No--don't--no, Superior--don't tell him my true name! Don't--!_

"How insistent you are, Demyx," said the Superior, an amused edge to his tone. "But very well...I suppose I haven't got anything to lose by telling you...come, Saix."

The Saix-wolf nodded slowly, once, and then became a man again. Saix stood by Xemnas's side, not protesting when Xemnas wrapped an arm around Saix's waist even while facing the motley assortment of slayers and vampires gathered in the plaza. Now, the Superior's presence had...had _changed. _All of the amusement was gone, replaced by something deeper, darker, and far more terrible...something Zexion didn't understand and didn't _want _to understand. Something that burned deep beneath the Superior's eyes, dark and malevolent...

"You are right--all of you. I _am _Xemnas, the accomplished vampire slayer who lived in the early eighteen hundreds. But I am also the Superior, the leader of the Coven of Thirteen."

"How? How--Superior--how can that be?" It took Zexion a moment to realize that _he _had spoken, so quiet and strained his voice had come out. "You can't be a _made _vampire, you wouldn't be--"

"No, of course not, Ienzo." Zexion stiffened unconsciously--again, the Superior was blithely addressing him by his real name... "Not in the conventional sense, at the very least..."

"What's _that _mean?" shouted Demyx loudly, before Zexion could speak--yet Zexion felt with a tingle of understanding that he _might _just know what Xemnas was talking about...yet it didn't seem _right, _either...

"Neither was I given the Gift, if that's what you're thinking, Ienzo," said Xemnas, speaking over Demyx, his tone almost sharp--but also amused. Demyx and Roxas looked even more confused, but Zexion understood, and Axel did too, if the tiny jerk of a nod he gave at Xemnas's words was any indication. "No...my case was, well...shall we say...a _special _case..."

"Special? How?" said Axel roughly.

"I'm getting there, Axel," said Xemnas, though he didn't sound exasperated at all--although Saix glowered at Axel. "All of you...you are all aware of the method of making a vampire slayer?"

"Huh? What?" said Demyx, sounding utterly perplexed, but then, "Oh--! You mean, with the blood--"

"Yes," said Xemnas serenely. "Now, Demyx and Axel...this is where _your _assumptions about my nature are correct. Some two hundred years ago...I _was _the vampire slayer Xemnas, the scion of one of the oldest vampire slaying clans in the world. By tradition, my family had long used the blood of the griffin...but my parents were rather..._experimental_...by nature. They had begun to worry about the growing power of pureblood vampires...and sought a way to combat it. Sought the blood of a creature stronger than the griffin to impart upon their son..."

Zexion stood where he was, rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to close his ears, listening with increasing horror as Xemnas spoke, with the increasing feeling that he did _not _want to know the truth...

"What kind of creature, though, could match a vampire equally in combat?" Xemnas had begun to pace up and down, his hands folded behind his back, his orange eyes turned to the sky, seemingly ignorant of everyone, of Saix beside him, of the four others watching him... "My parents eventually came to the obvious conclusion: Only a vampire."

"No--!" Axel reacted first, breathing sharply and taking a startled step backwards. He lifted his gun arm, which had been dangling limply by his side ever since Saix had evaded his last shot, and raised his gun by a tiny fraction--but enough to see that he was pointing it at Xemnas. "They _couldn't _have, that's _insane_--!"

"Oh, but they _did, _Axel," said Xemnas, his tone dark, silky. "That's right...when I was very young...only around three, or perhaps four, they injected me with two drops--simply two drops--of vampiric blood. That was enough, though...enough to give me heightened senses, greater powers, strength beyond that any human could have had. And my existence, at least for the first twenty-five or so years of my life...seemed to vindicate my parents' theory. I was indeed far stronger, far more talented, than any other vampire slayer at the time. Perhaps stronger than any vampire slayer before me. Kill after kill I racked up, until I had become widely acknowledged as the greatest vampire slayer in all the world."

Zexion stared in amazement at the Superior. The words washed over him, meaning nothing, yet eliciting a rising sensation of mingled dread and disbelief within the incubus. _Injected with vampiric blood...stronger, more talented, than any other vampire slayer...greatest vampire slayer in the world..._ None of it made any sense. How could the Superior, the leader of the most powerful coven in the world, also have been the world's greatest vampire slayer two centuries before? Vampire slayers didn't just turn into vampires, unless they were made (as Zexion had done with Roxas). But the Superior _couldn't _be made, he had to be a pureblood vampire...

"It seemed perfect, and indeed, other experiments were planned, experiments to create vampire slayers from the blood of vampires. But...but not all was well." Xemnas had stopped pacing, and his expression became pensive, distant, focused on a point that only he could see. "You see...as I grew older, with every year...I began to _change. _It started simply...simply with an urge, a subliminal urge, buried deep within my blood...but then it escalated from there."

Nobody spoke. The silence pressed thick and dark around them, surrounding them like a heavy, muffling, blanket. When Xemnas spoke again, his words seemed to carry the age and wisdom of centuries, the melancholy of a dying star.

"At first, I became irritated at simple things, things I never would have noticed before. Things like _light_...and the silver weapons I handled every night, as I chased down my quarry, began to feel heavy and strange in my hands, became almost painful to handle. I noticed my body changing...my canines sharpening...my senses becoming even more finely tuned than they had been before. And above all--I began to crave _blood. _I didn't understand it, at first. I didn't understand the urge that stabbed through my veins every time I came near a human, every time I inhaled the scent of their blood...but _you _understand, don't you, Ienzo?"

"Yes, Superior." Zexion spoke in barely a whisper, and nodded. He understood what the Superior was talking about--understood too well the burning hunger, the desire for _blood_...and once again, was forced to turn his thoughts away from Demyx.

"I might not have understood the urge...but I knew enough to _fear _it. I began to isolate myself from humans, but of course, that did nothing for me but delay the inevitable. And the simple matter was, I was still a vampire slayer. I still had to fulfill my obligations...still had to hunt down the vampires. It was during a mission, in fact, that everything changed...that I turned from Xemnas the slayer into the Superior, the vampire..."

Zexion could no nothing, nothing but stand where he was, chilled to the core of his being by the Superior's words, and listen, listen, always _listen, _as the Superior spoke, as the Superior told his horrifying story...

"It was a purely routine mission, routine in every way. I still remember it...the December of 1823, only days from the winter solstice. I, along with three other vampire slayers, was given orders to pursue a den of pureblood vampires in Romania. We went, we found the vampires, and we engaged them in battle. Routine, as I said. We slaughtered most of the vampires quickly...but even as I fought, I felt the silver staves in my hands burn...and I felt the desire in my blood, stronger than it ever had been before--"

"You don't mean--" gasped Axel, sounding stricken.

Xemnas continued speaking as if Axel hadn't even spoken. "And then...when the mission was over...not only did the pureblood Romanian vampires lie dead...but my three 'comrades' did too. They lay dead, pale as ice, their blood streaming in rivulets from the holes in their necks...that is, the few remaining ounces of blood that I _hadn't _consumed in my raging hunger..."

"Oh, _God_..." For a brief, wild, moment, Zexion didn't recognize the voice--but then realized that this was Demyx behind him, shivering and pale-faced, looking ready to retch, his voice high-pitched and trembling from horror. A horror that Zexion felt quite acutely, rising from the pit of his stomach and spreading through his frozen veins...

"That night, I discovered why no vampire slayer had ever used vampiric blood to create a slayer. The blood was far too powerful--even a single drop, less than I had been given, would have been enough to subdue a human's blood. Over the past three decades, my vampiric blood had been slowly taking control, spreading through my veins, overwhelming my natural human blood, until I finally, that fateful night...it burst forth, completely shut down my human instincts...and transformed me into a vampire."

Zexion gasped sharply at Xemnas's words, but lost the sound of his own gasp beneath the horrified buzzing that had seized his ears, beneath the startled cry Demyx had released, beneath the sound of Axel's shocked curse, and the rather curious sound Roxas had released--half a groan, half a choke. A part of the incubus wondered darkly why everyone was so surprised, though...he had been _expecting _this, ever since Xemnas had declared that he had been infused with vampiric blood, yet...

Yet it all seemed so...so _impossible. _So fantastical, so insane, so...it just didn't make sense. So Xemnas had been infused with vampiric blood, but didn't that make him a made vampire...? Yet Zexion was certain that the Superior _was _a pureblood; he couldn't be a made vampire and be as _powerful _as he was now...Zexion shook his head to clear it, but no elucidation came. He was still as perplexed as ever before...

"How..._how, _Superior...how can you be--be a made vampire?" Zexion spoke, once again, without thinking--but this time, his words matched his thoughts exactly. This _was _what he'd been wondering, what had been frustrating him...he even dared a glance at the Superior, to see Xemnas just standing there, looking serene as always, and Saix by his side, hardly confused at all--so the _wolf _knew all this...

"Because, Ienzo...I am _not _a made vampire," said the Superior, an amused smirk spreading across his face. "No, don't interrupt--_listen. _I am not a made vampire. I am the rarest of creatures...something that perhaps has never existed before, and never will again...I am a human given vampiric blood. And because of that...I _am _a vampire. A vampire with all the strength, all the speed, all the reflexes, all the wisdom, of a pureblood. Perhaps even stronger, even better, than a pureblood. I am not a stagnant creature as pureblood vampires are, but one created through constant change, through the blood cycling through my veins--you understand, don't you, Ienzo?"

"I...I'm afraid I don't quite, Superior..." said Zexion cautiously. And he _didn't. _If the Superior had been speaking cryptically before..._now, _he was speaking nonsense.

"That's perfectly all right; I expect there are limits to the understanding of an incubus..." Xemnas unleashed a heavy, almost theatrical, sigh. "But never mind that. You see, Ienzo--all of you--that as the years have passed, the vampiric blood flowing through my veins has only grown stronger. What was once merely two tiny drops has become the very essence of my being. Every year, my vampiric instincts, my abilities, strengthen...do you see now? _This _is the true power of vampiric blood; _this _is the reason why it has never been used to create a vampire slayer. The true power of vampiric blood is its ability to strengthen over time, its ability to suppress, to transform, to completely take over the body of its host...its ability to create a vampire far more powerful than any, pureblood or made, that has ever lived."

A glint that Zexion could only describe as _mad_ was now shining in the Superior's orange eyes, and his smirk had tightened, become more threatening...Zexion took a step backwards, startled by the change that had come over the Superior's countenance, the Superior's bearing. He didn't know what it could mean, but it couldn't mean anything good...

"What the--the _hell, _that doesn't--how the hell do you think I can believe _that? _That doesn't make _any _fucking sense!"

Zexion turned in Axel's direction, alarmed by the shaky, near-panicking tone to the redheaded slayer's voice. Axel was standing, but just barely--he was shaking like a madman and though he had his gun aimed straight at Xemnas's chest, Zexion was sure that the bullet would never find its mark when fired; Axel was just trembling too much to get off a good shot.

Xemnas's smirk simply tightened when he saw Axel, not seeming to care at all about the gun aimed at his chest. "Now, now, Axel...you ought to be _careful _with that..."

"God damn you to fucking hell!" snarled Axel in one heated breath. He raised the gun again, but his arm was shaking insanely. "You--_you_--what _is _all this nonsense, this--this--vampire blood crap, this--and why are you with that _werewolf, _I thought vampires and werewolves were--"

"Ah? Saix?" Xemnas tilted his head slightly to his side, while extending one arm towards Saix--Saix, acknowledging the gesture, stepped closer to Xemnas's side, and Xemnas wrapped his arm around the werewolf's waist. It took all of Zexion's willpower to keep from squeezing his eyes shut from disgust... "Well...we met, one day, not very long ago...and I quickly became enthralled by him. And, or so I like to believe, he by me. Before we knew it...we had formed our alliance. The Coven of Thirteen, and Saix's pack."

Zexion couldn't help it--upon the Superior's words, he gnashed his teeth and emitted a disgusted scoff. He regretted his reaction, though, when Xemnas noticed.

"But Ienzo doesn't seem to think much about our new alliance, do you now, Ienzo?" Then, to Zexion's horror, Xemnas turned to face Zexion, a teasing quality shining in his eyes...a quality that Zexion didn't quite like. "Well? Have you got anything to say, Ienzo?"

"N...no, Superior..." hissed Zexion, turning angrily to the side so that he didn't have to meet the Superior's eyes any longer.

"You seem upset. Do you not like my alliance with Saix, Ienzo?" The Superior pressed on, cruelly, his words stabbing like icy knives against Zexion's ears.

"It is not in my place to question you, Superior," replied Zexion in a low mumble, lowering his head, letting his hair fall into both of his eyes and hide his face from the Superior's scrutiny...but no. There was no hiding, and definitely no hiding his hatred of Saix, of the stupid wolf leaning so languidly by the Superior's side...

"Now, now, Ienzo..." said the Superior, clucking disapprovingly. "I won't tolerate any lying...after all, if you _really _weren't concerned over my alliance with Saix...you wouldn't have treated him so insolently earlier, now, would you have?"

"S-Superior...!" Zexion jerked in shock, unwillingly staring back at the Superior and Saix. Xemnas was regarding him with the same patronizing playfulness as before, while Saix had on a strange, pleased, half-smirk...but of course, he'd be pleased to see Zexion receive his comeuppance. And Xemnas _did_ know about Zexion's earlier insolence towards Saix...

"You only give respect where respect is due, do you now, hmm?" Xemnas continued speaking, his tone light, but tangible disapproval now shining beneath every word. "Well, I will tell you this, Ienzo--Saix _is _due respect. He is due respect because he is my second-in-command, my valuable ally. I will not have you, a mere incubus, treat him with rudeness and disrespect. You _do _understand, don't you, Ienzo?"

"Yes, Superior..." Zexion lowered his head again, feeling his face burn. There were no lies, no secrets, before the Superior...the always undivinable Superior...

"That's good, then...that's good," said the Superior, but his tone was somewhat distracted. But then, with a sudden dose of sharpness, "Still, I figure a little..._punishment_...ought to to drill the lesson home to you..."

And Zexion realized with a startled jolt that the Superior's overwhelming scent of darkness and cold command was moving ever closer in his direction...and that the sound of footsteps ringing across the flagstone was steadily approaching him...

But then, before Zexion could react properly, a presence of sea-salt and ocean-breeze drifted in front of him, and alarmed, Zexion opened his eyes to see--

To see _Demyx, _standing defensively in front of Zexion, his arms thrown out and a look of determination--tempered by nervousness--on his face. He was shaking badly, but the gesture had been enough to stop the Superior dead in his tracks, about two yards from Zexion, looking surprised, but less in a shocked than quizzical manner.

"Well, well..." he said quietly. "We meet again, Demyx...seeing as you're still alive, I suppose it's safe to assume that Ienzo didn't decide to eat you...?"

"Yeah, whatever, who cares?" retorted Demyx in a high-pitched, strained voice--but he continued to stand his ground, defending Zexion...

"Demyx..." said Zexion, barely above a whisper, staring up at Demyx's back, at the blonde slayer guarding him, protecting him, blocking him fron the Superior...at the man who had said he loved Zexion...who had hugged Zexion, and kissed him, and reassured him that everything would be all right...who had wept while his dreams had been blasted apart, but then who had placed a comforting hand on Zexion's shoulder...

Zexion blinked, hard, and shook his head to get his thoughts in order again. It wouldn't do to get lost, not here, not now...

"Now, Demyx, kindly move out of the way," said the Superior, taking a step closer towards Zexion. Demyx did not back down, though his body convulsed in a violent shiver.

"I won't!" he shouted, still in that high, strained voice. "I won't! I won't sit back and let you hurt him--!"

For the first time, Xemnas's serene countenance cracked; an ugly expression spasmed across his face, his orange eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth twitched unpleasantly. When he spoke, he addressed Zexion, and his voice was dark with disapproval.

"Ienzo...now, what gives you the right to complain about how supposedly 'wrong' and 'disgusting' my relationship with Saix is...when _you _are in a relationship even _more _disgusting? Imagine that..._food_, of all things..."

Zexion lowered his head further, not wanting to endure more of the Superior's fury...and he knew, inwardly, that the Superior was right. That _this _was the reason why he refused to let his relationship with Demyx become just that--a _relationship. _Because Demyx was a human, and he was a vampire. "_You're meat, the lot of you," _he had said to Demyx, and that was right--that was all humans were, meat, and Demyx was too, no matter how often he might have protected Zexion, comforted Zexion, kissed Zexion, smiled and said to Zexion, _"I love you_"--

"Demyx, back down," he said quietly--too quietly, he thought for a moment, for Demyx too hear. But Demyx did hear, because he glanced back towards Zexion, looking stricken.

"What--? You serious? No way, Zexion, I'm not abandoning you to _him_--"

"Ah, well...never matter..." Xemnas took another, then another, threatening step forward, closing the distance between himself and Demyx... "I can handle a mere _human _slayer. You're nothing but an obstacle..."

With those words, to Zexion's horror, Xemnas slowly extended a threatening hand forward, his claws gleaming in the moonlight...obviously prepared to snatch Demyx by the throat and--

Zexion almost leapt up to--to do _something_, he supposed--but before he could, a gunshot shattered the silence for the fifth time that night, and Xemnas reeled back in surprise, dark blood spilling from a point on his chest, staining his coat with grotesquely shining liquid...

To the left of Demyx stood Axel, his gun held before him, his arm trembling again--this time not from being overwhelmed, but from fury. Corrosive hatred was etched in every line of Axel's face as he glared at Xemnas, and his mouth was twisted in a horrible snarl. He looked barely human, so seized with wild rage he was, yet Zexion felt he understood the dark fury emanating from Axel's entire being, felt he understood the instinct that had propelled the slayer to take on a vampire too powerful for him to beat...

"You take another step closer to him--you try to hurt him again--_and I'll shoot your fucking head off, do you HEAR me?" _snarled Axel, pouring all of his fury into his words, shaking even more violently now.

"Y...yeah." This was Roxas, struggling to his feet as well, and taking a place by Axel's side. "Don't...don't hurt Demyx."

Xemnas stared back and forth between Axel and Roxas, his eyes wide from surprise--but then he threw back his head and unleashed a deep, supremely satisfied laugh, sounding as if he hadn't seen anything more amusing before in his life. He didn't even seem to register any pain from the bullet wound.

"A ha ha ha ha....ohhh...how amusing, how utterly amusing..." The Superior chuckled weakly again, shaking his head in a paternally exasperated manner. "Do you _all _love Demyx, then? Given how willing you are to die for him...?"

"It isn't like that, fucking vamp," retorted Axel in a low snarl, the corner of his mouth twitching unpleasantly. He continued aiming his gun at Xemnas's chest, even though his previous bullet had had little effect. "It's just that if you hurt my people...I'm gonna have to hurt you."

"Go ahead, Axel. Hurt me, if you can..." Xemans laughed again, and to emphasize his point, he reached out and wiped the blood from the front of his coat, not even flinching when he ran his hand directly over the bullet wound.

"And he is not alone." This was Saix, stepping forward, a threatening gleam to his golden eyes. "If you are really as intelligent as you think you are, Ienzo, you will stand down and come quietly with us, to face your punishment. Come."

Zexion didn't move at Saix's order, though--not only because he didn't _want _to, but because...he _couldn't. _He just couldn't summon up any strength in his legs, any strength to stand and obey Saix and Xemnas and hope that they would take mercy on him...he could only remain where he was, kneeling on the ground behind Demyx, watching helplessly...

"You're not moving?" This was Xemnas, taking a step closer--although a slightly more cautious one than before; perhaps he didn't want to risk getting shot by Axel again. "I will give you one last chance, Ienzo: _Move. _Now."

"Nghhh...." Zexion knew with a pounding in his blood, with a rushing in his ears, that he _had _to move...that he _had _to stand and approach the Superior and beg for forgiveness, but...but he couldn't find the energy within him. The will. The will to surrender himself to the Superior...

But not just that. Because surrendering himself to the Superior meant not just giving _himself _up for punishment...but also giving up Demyx. Xemnas wouldn't allow Demyx to live; not after everything Demyx had done for Zexion's sake, and all the things Zexion had done for Demyx. To Xemnas, Demyx was a dangerous influence on Zexion, was an entity that deserved to be silenced. Silenced...and Zexion had the nasty suspicion that Xemnas would eat Demyx to accomplish that, or worse, force _Zexion _to eat Demyx...

And Axel and Roxas, too...Xemnas couldn't allow them to live, particularly after Axel had _shot _at Xemnas. Roxas was slated for death no matter what; killing a vampire's servants was a routine part of his punishment. And while Zexion might not have cared for Roxas that much, and _definitely _felt little more than antipathy towards Axel, to...to see them die on his account...

No. He couldn't allow that to happen.

"Come, Ienzo," Xemnas was saying, over and over again, his tone soft and cajoling. "Ienzo, come here. Move. Come to your Superior. Come, Ienzo...come, incubus..."

"Hurry," said Saix, somewhat more insistently. "Hurry and move, incubus, we haven't got all day..."

Slowly, hesistantly, Zexion _did _begin to move...somehow, he managed to find the strength within his frozen muscles to pull himself from a kneel to a crouch, and then, trembling, a cold sweat shimmering on the back of his neck, he forced himself to stand. For a heart-stopping moment, Zexion feared that he would fall over--his legs were trembling too much--but managed to steady himself in time, enough so that he could stand by his own power. He turned his gaze from Demyx's back to Xemnas and Saix, both fixing him with expectant looks.

"Zexy, what are you--" gasped Demyx, turning slightly to shoot Zexion a confused glance, while Axel cursed loudly when he saw Zexion's movement.

"That's good," said Xemnas, taking another step closer to Zexion, a dangerous smirk spreading across his face. "That's _very _good. Now come here, Ienzo. Come to your Superior."

Zexion straightened his shoulders, met Xemnas's eyes, and replied in as steady a voice as he could muster:

"_No."_

* * *

Holee...that was all one scene....

I feel evil for leaving things off on a cliffhanger, so here's a preview for chapter next, "Darkness":

_He was talking down to Zexion, treating Zexion like a child or worse. No, like an incubus. Zexion gritted his teeth and took another step backwards, closer to Demyx's sea-salt and ocean breeze presence. No one moved; all were tense, waiting, waiting for the inevitable reaction. There could be no turning back now, once Zexion had openly defied the Superior. He could never, even if he eventually came to regret this decision, crawl back to the Superior and beg for forgiveness. He'd irrevocably put a chasm between himself and the Superior. In a way, that frightened him, but at the same time, in strengthened him, gave him a sense of fierce resolve._

Pretty long, huh...? Anyway, with chapter twenty, the second part _Tainted But Beautiful, _"The Secrets" will be over and done with. We're almost two thirds the way through! Wow, a fanfiction that's thirty chapters long...though that's nothing compared to my fantasy novel, which if my plotting is correct will have **thirty-six frakking chapters.** But if that's the way things must be, then it is the way things will be...

I'm very happy that I'm returning to this story, because I love it to pieces, and hope to be able to update it semi-regularly. Although I haven't finished chapter twenty yet, so it'll be some time before it comes up. But I am definitely not abandoning _Tainted But Beautiful! _Keep the reviews coming, people. :)


	20. Darkness

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 2: The Secrets

_20. Darkness_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, OVERALL WEIRDNESS.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Another update! And probably the last one in a while, seeing as on Saturday I'm leaving for NYC for 2 weeks. With no internet access. But it's NEW frakking YORK frakking CITY. Who needs internet there? So small sacrifices.

You're probably going to all hate me with this chapter, because...it makes no sense. It will, come chapter 21, but right now...a lot of stuff happens with no explanation. I won't do the BSG thing (heaven forbid) and never explain it, but I figure I've been hammering you readers with too many explanations recently, so...bear with me. I'm not suddenly doing an ass-pull or anything like that.

Anyway, I hope you'll all enjoy the Zemyx scene at the end (fluffy, not sex). I like this chapter for its emphasis on character development. Hahahaha, I'm actually unsure now whether Zexion or Demyx is the protagonist. It started out Demyx but the focus has been steadily shifting to Zexion...

* * *

For a wild moment, it felt almost like time had frozen. Zexion remained still, where he was, not daring to breathe, while from behind him Axel, Demyx, and Roxas were staring in utter astonishment. Zexion didn't dare look ahead, to meet what he was sure was going to be Saix and the Superior's disapproval...

A sharp intake of breath from Saix; Zexion flinched, it was happening. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean what I say," said Zexion, and, wildly, before he could think about what he saying: "Generally, as far as I am aware, 'no' is a statement in the negative, used to deny a statement or reject a request."

He had no idea what he was doing, reciting definitions to _Saix _of all people, but the words just came tumbling out anyway. The instant they did, he felt mortified: Saix had known perfectly well what Zexion had meant.

An ugly spasm crossed Saix's face, before his usually flat neutrality replaced it. He didn't speak, though; instead, Xemnas stepped forward, his coat swishing around him, his dark presence hardening, becoming icier. Zexion, despite himself, took a step backwards, not wanting to face the Superior's disapproval.

When Xemnas, spoke, though, his tone was low, almost cajoling. "Are you certain, Ienzo...? Are you aware of what you are saying? Did you mean it, when you said that?"

He was talking down to Zexion, treating Zexion like a child or worse. _No, like an incubus. _Zexion gritted his teeth and took another step backwards, closer to Demyx's sea-salt and ocean breeze presence. No one moved; all were tense, waiting, waiting for the inevitable reaction. There could be no turning back now, once Zexion had openly defied the Superior. He could never, even if he eventually came to regret this decision, crawl back to the Superior and beg for forgiveness. He'd irrevocably put a chasm between himself and the Superior. In a way, that frightened him, but at the same time, in strengthened him, gave him a sense of fierce resolve.

For the first time in his life, he had made a decision not as Ienzo, the Superior's obedient incubus, but as Zexion, the vampire who wanted nothing more than Demyx's safety and happiness. If he had to defy the Superior to ensure Demyx stayed alive, then he was all too glad to do it.

"Yes," said Zexion, squaring his shoulders and looking the Superior dead in the eye. "_I meant it."_

Xemnas gazed back, his expression unreadable yet ominously dark. "So that is it. You have chosen to defy me, Ienzo."

"That," said Zexion, astonishing himself by the certainty he was putting into his words, "is _not _my name."

Then, for the first time, Xemnas became--_angry. _Truly angry, not just lightly irritated. His golden eyes darkened, as if a shadow had passed over the surface of the sun, and his mouth twisted in a horrible scowl--

Zexion tensed, prepared for Xemnas's motion--so he was caught completely off guard when, instead of Xemnas grabbing him and flinging him across the square, something blue and reeking of musk and moonflowers collided into his chest, snarling, knocking him clear over. Wildly, Zexion grappled with the Saix wolf, digging his claws into its paws and trying to kick it off, even as it scratched at his shirt, tearing it open, leaving lines of bright red where it scratched--

_Xemnas, Xemnas, where is he, where is _he_-- _thought Zexion wildly. Saix was just a distraction; whatever Xemnas was doing, that was more important, he _had _to find the Superior, but couldn't detect Xemnas's familiar dark scent anywhere, not when he was being overwhelmed by Saix's stinking musk.

"Get--off--you--feral--_dog!" _he snarled, managing to kick the wolf off him. Saix flew with a growl and collided against the stone; Zexion quickly scrambled up and swept his eyes over the plaza, searching for Xemnas--

_"Demyx!"_

Xemnas was right in front of Demyx--he'd reached out and grabbed the startled blonde slayer by the front of the coat, leering dangerously, his mouth only inches from Demyx's neck--

Three gunshots shattered the silence, and Xemnas stumbled, though he did not release Demyx. He whirled around, his silver hair flying, to face Axel, his face drawn in anger, aiming his gun straight at the vampire.

"Put him _down," _said Axel dangerously.

Xemnas merely smirked at Axel, ignoring the bullet wounds on his back, and bent back over Demyx--but then doubled over when Demyx, grim determination in his blue eyes, drove his knee firmly into Xemnas's stomach. The vampire released Demyx, who dropped to the ground before scrambling to his feet, turning wildly, seemingly looking for something--before he locked eyes with Zexion.

Zexion felt his stomach drop out from under him, and something cold to shoot through his veins. He'd never--_never_--seen such a light in Demyx's ocean-blue eyes before. A determined light, a fierce light, a light that said _I'm ready to fight; are you?_

Zexion jerked his head in a nod. He couldn't, however, quell the sinking sensation inside him, the feeling that he had lost something as well as gained. Because he saw in the clarity of that instant that Demyx had changed, that he would never smile so easily or laugh with such carelessness again. He'd become grim, focused, whittled to a sharp point of purpose just like Zexion had been. Zexion, and Axel, and Roxas.

He didn't get much longer to muse on the new Demyx, though, before the stench of musk approached him from the side; whirling around, Zexion saw the Saix wolf barrelling straight toward him, sharp canines bared, a murderous light in its golden eyes.

Zexion reacted on instinct more than anything, letting the vicious hatred for the werewolf and all of its kind that flowed through his veins guide him. Snarling ferociously, he rolled out of the wolf's path before leaping upright again. The wolf unleashed a rumbling growl, which Zexion returned with an answering snarl, and the two circled each other, locking eyes, blue into gold, instinctual hatred propelling them, waiting for an opening...

A tiny flicker of movement distracted Zexion--he saw out of the corner of his eye Axel tossing a gun to Demyx and then the both of them, shooting together, riddling Xemnas's body full of bullets--

The opening was enough for Saix. The next instant Zexion fell, sputtering, to the ground, cracking his shoulder hard against the stone as Saix swatted at him with a massive paw. Zexion kicked out, catching the wolf in the abdomen. The wolf unleashed a howl that seemed to cause the dark sky above to tremble, before dashing towards Zexion again, its razor-sharp teeth gleaming, prepared to catch Zexion's throat between its powerful jaws...

Not that the incubus was about to let that happen. As the wolf approached, he raked out with his claws, opening four lines of bright red over the wolf's already-scarred muzzle. Saix roared, shaking his own blood all over Zexion--Zexion backed off, breathing hard, wiping his blood-stained claws on his pants.

"Have at me, you foul dog," he hissed.

The wolf merely growled, and dove for Zexion again. Zexion leapt backwards, out of Saix's reach, landing gracefully on the edge of the fountain. He had the high ground, now, but wasn't sure how much of an advantage it was, not when he was breathing so hard and sweat was standing out in a slick sheen on his pale neck...

Damn. No matter how wildly the adrenaline surged in his veins, he simply didn't have the strength, the speed, the stamina, to overwhelm the werewolf Saix. _But that doesn't mean I can't fight back--with my own skills._

So, as Saix barrelled towards him again, shaking droplets of blood on the ground as he bared his canines in a snarl, Zexion raised his arm in the air and began to call forth an illusion. He'd make Saix think the ground had become slick as oil, and steep as a ramp, so that he'd be slipping and sliding and unable to approach Zexion.

The wolf howled in frustration as he struggled against a ground that had suddenly, for him, become frustratingly slick and steep. To Zexion, of course, it appeared that Saix was just huffing and puffing and sliding and struggling to maintain a grip on the solid and flat bricks with his paws. Convinced he had Saix distracted--at least for the moment--Zexion leapt off the fountain and turned his attention to the fight between Demyx, Axel, Roxas and Xemnas.

The two slayers and the half-made vampire were together assaulting Xemnas, Axel and Demyx firing shot after shot into Xemnas's chest that Xemnas plainly seemed to ignore. He stepped aside from them, as if their shooting was but a minor annoyance, and effortlessly flowed over to the astonished Roxas, whose throat he tightened his hand around--

Only to have Axel charge straight towards him, grabbing Xemnas's wrist with one hand while swinging his silver-plated gun in an arc with the other, bringing it down hard on the side of Xemnas's face. The vampire actually stumbled backwards from the force of the blow, giving Demyx an opening to dive for Xemnas's arm and tug, yanking Roxas free of Xemnas's grip. Roxas tumbled to the ground, disorieinted, but regrouped and leapt up again after a second, scrabbling at Xemnas's bullet-riddled chest with his claws, splashing Xemnas's cold blood on his own face.

They weren't, Zexion thought, doing so bad. He stepped forward to join them--

But then Saix was charging at him again, his head down, murderous intent shining in his golden eyes. Zexion cried out as Saix tackled him, bearing him face-down to the ground; the incubus banged his head against the bricks and felt something wet spread across his forehead, while Saix hooked his claws into the flesh of Zexion's back, drawing blood, crushing Zexion with his horrible, unmovable weight, drowning Zexion in his hideous scent...

"Nggh--get--_off_--" gasped Zexion, struggling against the wolf. Wildly, he began weaving another illusion, one of himself becoming as darkness, intangible and smooth as liquid, flowing free from beneath Saix's pinning grip. The wolf howled in confusion, releasing him; Zexion quickly stumbled away from Saix, towards the fight.

But he was seeing, to his surprise, his illusion: how odd, Zexion usually didn't see his own illusions unless he specifically willed it so. But he could _see _it, the darkness creeping from under the werewolf to spread across the bricks, consuming their red roughness with smooth black...now snaking up the fountain, coating in a dull sheen of impenetrable darkness...

It took Zexion a brief, horrified second to realize this was no longer his illusion.

He looked up, even though he felt he already knew what'd he see--the darkness everywhere, snaking in tendrils to cover not just the ground, nor the fountain, nor the storefronts, but also creeping up streetlights, snuffing out their yellowish glows like a candle placed in a bell jar; also reaching towards the sky, blocking the natural silvery light of the stars in favor of a blackness more extreme than any Zexion had ever set his eyes on before. He thought he'd known darkness, being a vampire, a creature of the night, but now he realized he didn't.

He knew the inky blue of the night sky, the white-cold light of the stars. He had _not _known pure darkness, darkness so concentrated and heavy that it seemed to dull everything, not just his surroundings but even his senses, muffling the scents that had been sharp and clear just moments ago.

Zexion didn't recognize this darkness, and he didn't like it. Whatever it was, it had gone long beyond the petty illusion he'd summoned, into something powerful, all-encompassing...threatening. Whoever was controlling this darkness _had _to be a threat. Perhaps it was Xemnas himself, but no, because the darkness was swallowing Xemnas at that very moment, a wide-eyed Xemnas who glanced wildly around as if he didn't recognize this strange magic himself.

_A new enemy? _thought Zexion with something akin to panic. _Who? Who could be more powerful than Xemnas?_

He glanced wildly around, back and forth, searching for Axel, Roxas, Demyx, even Xemnas and Saix--_anyone _besides himself. But he saw nothing except the mysterious, shrouding darkness.

It was the strangest situation, standing here all alone in the midst of the deep blackness, seeing no one and nothing else. He'd never felt so exposed, so vulnerable--so _alone_--before. The solitude, especially, he couldn't stand. The feeling of being isolated, the sole being in a lifeless universe, the last star burning in the dying expanse of space. Zexion fought down a shiver, angrily telling himself it wouldn't do--who the hell was he, a _vampire, _to be afraid of the dark?

This wasn't a vampire's darkness, though. This was something else entirely, and something he did not like.

Perhaps it was because he was straining his eyes so hard, or only imagining, but he thought he saw something slowly approaching him, something in what he assumed to be the distance (he could no longer tell, given the way the darkness blotted out any noticeable landmarks). It was a tiny blot, but he noticed it because it wasn't dark, but--

Red. The deep crimson shade of life-giving blood. Seeing that blood-red shade caused something inside Zexion to shudder--his hunger. He'd almost forgotten, after all the excitement with Xemnas and Saix... Straightening, Zexion watched the red figure move closer, its crimson color standing out starkly against the uniform blackness.

As it came closer, Zexion realized it was a _person_--a man. A man dressed in a long, blood-red cloak, his face swathed in bandages the same color, like a livid mask. The man's cloak billowed around him as he walked, casting amber-colored eyes back and forth as if searching for more figures hidden in the darkness. Zexion remained still, uncertainty running through his veins: was this man an enemy, or friend? Was he the one who had cast this darkness?

Zexion thought the wise thing to do would be to back down, but his muscles felt frozen and he couldn't move. He could only stand there, unmoving, fear surging through his body, as the red-cloaked man approached him.

The man paused about two yards in front of Zexion. Zexion swallowed, painfully for he could find no wetness in his mouth. For a long time, the two regarded each other silently, vampire and--mysterious stranger, neither speaking. In a rather foolish way, Zexion was aware of how much taller the man was than he was...

Then, the man spoke, his words sending a jolt running down Zexion's spine: "Greetings...incubus."

Zexion blinked, startled by the sound of the man's voice--it wasn't a deep, all-consuming rumble like he'd been expecting it to be, but a rich, precise, British-accented voice. A voice of a mortal man, not a monster... Straightening his shoulders, Zexion said, "Er....ahh...sir..."

He didn't know what he was going to say, just that it felt better to force words out--foolish as they might be--than to remain standing there silently. The man made it easier, though, when he said, "What is your name?"

"Zexion, sir." Zexion didn't know why he was referring to the man as "sir", as if he was a superior vampire...but figured it wouldn't hurt to show some respect. Especially since he still wasn't sure if the man was an enemy or on his side.

"Zexion." The name was briefly stated, flat as the darkness surrounding them. It was all harsh consonants; nothing like the gentle sounds of his real name, _Ienzo_--

No, not his real name. His old name. The name he had shed the instant he had defied the Superior.

"You are...an incubus," said the bandaged man, his crisp words cutting through Zexion's thoughts and forcing Zexion's attention back to him. "Very young--less than a century, are you not? You would have been born sometime around 1914--in France, I presume. There is something French to the way you speak..."

Zexion stared in astonishment at the man, unable to do or say anything in response to hearing so many facts about himself from a complete stranger. He was particularly startled by the last bit--for the longest time he'd thought he had purged the last traces of an accent out of his speech, had trained the habits of the old language out of himself. He'd taken care to adopt the neutral American-accented English all the Coven of Thirteen vampires used in dealing with each other.

And speak of the devil. "You are a member of the Coven of Thirteen," the mysterious man was saying.

"No," said Zexion immediately.

The man cast him a strange, sidelong look. Zexion flushed under the intensify of the man's amber-eyed stare, though he didn't know why. "And what do you mean by that, incubus?"

Funny, how his words could have absolutely no weight to them...coming from the mouth of a superior vampire, the self-same phrase would have sounded patronizing, challenging. But coming from this man, it was flat, wordlessly intoned, weightless as darkness.

"I..." Zexion swallowed painful dryness again. "I...when I defied the Sup--Xemnas--back there, I renounced all ties to the coven. I am not part of them anymore. I am--my own person."

It felt strange, being able to say those words. Words he'd never believed in. For as long as he'd lived, he had never belonged to himself--always to other people. To his Superior, then to Axel, then Demyx...but now he was acting as Zexion. On his own.

The man stared, unblinking and silent, at him for a uncomfortably long time. Then, he said, still as weightlessly as before, "You are..quite a remarkably erudite young incubus, Zexion."

Zexion didn't know what to say to this, so he didn't say anything. At length, after he tired of tugging on his sleeve cuffs just for something to do, taking in the ugly red burns Axel's chains had left behind, he said, quietly, not looking up, "What has happened to the others?"

"The one you call the Superior, and his werewolf follower, have been lost in the darkness. But only for now; it cannot hold them for long. Your friends, I assure you, are safe."

There was something in the way that the man said "the Superior" that caused something to tighten within Zexion's chest; it had only been a fraction of a second, but a flash of real pain had shone in the man's eyes when he had said the name...

"What...you..." Zexion's head was beginning to spin; he just couldn't _understand _this. What was this man? He couldn't be human, but he didn't have a vampire's presence, either. Why had he come here? Had he helped Zexion, and why? There were so many questions, so many things he didn't understand.

So many things he _wanted _to understand. But he didn't know where to start. All he felt was a throbbing his head, and a weakness in his limbs, and the strong desire to just curl up and _sleep..._but of course, thinking about everything he'd been through, it made sense. He had spent two months in Axel's "care", constantly being abused; afterwards he'd been punished by the Superior, had even injured himself in an attempt to avoid eating Demyx, and then physically fought against Xemnas and Saix. It was a marvel that he hadn't collapsed earlier under the weight of all his injuries.

"The darkness is affecting you," said the man, his words as flatly-intoned as ever. He took a step closer to Zexion, but strangely the distance between the two didn't seem to close...or maybe Zexion couldn't judge distances anymore in all this uniform black. "Come. You need to rest."

A tiny, rather irreverent part of Zexion thought, _No shit. _Most of him was feeling to weary to reply, though. Nonetheless, he still wanted an answer--at least one tiny answer, to one tiny question. Quietly, struggling to force words out that wouldn't melt and fade into the omnipresent darkness, he asked:

"Sir...may I ask...what is your name?"

A long silence. The man gazed back at Zexion, his expression unfathomable behind the bandages--yet pained as well, the same sort of life-stealing pain that had gleamed in his eyes for that brief moment earlier. Then, in a voice that was almost gentle, almost sad, he said:

"You may call me DiZ."

* * *

Demyx threw himself into the soft pillow, feeling so happy he could have kissed it. Instead, he just threw his arms around it and tugged its softness closer to himself; it felt light as a cloud, warm and comfortable, swamping him like a coccoon.

"Oh, this is great, this is the _best," _he gasped into the pillow. "I can't believe this is really happening."

Truthfully, Demyx didn't really know what was going on. All he knew was that the mysterious darkness had descended over the square, and then a strange man in red, followed by Zexion, Axel, and Roxas--all of who looked as astonished as Demyx felt--had approached. The man had introduced himself as "DiZ", implied that he created the darkness, said that Saix and Xemnas would not be escaping the darkness for some time, and then...

He'd lead them to a goddamn _car. _An Aston-Martin, actually. Which was quite nice and comfortable, Demyx had to admit. The instant he'd sank against the leather-upholstered seats, he'd curled up and fallen asleep, despite his pitiful attempts to fight the soul-sucking weariness that had fallen over him. He'd slept comfortably through the rest of the journey, waking up only when he felt a light, cool hand on his shoulder shaking him awake.

And then Demyx found himself in...a manor. A manor in the countryside, overgrown with vines and surrounded by towering maple trees dropping violently-colored leaves. Demyx had stared in disorientation at all the red-orange-yellow, with tinges of green and brown, spread around the manor. Living in a city of black and gray, he'd never seen so many colors in his life. He hadn't thought it possible.

Zexion had snapped Demyx out of his disorientation by dragging the slayer (rather roughly) inside the manor, after the red-robed man. No one was speaking, quite probably because they were all too astonished to put their thoughts in order, let alone voice them. They just allowed the mysterious man to lead them inside, where he then directed them to the baths and bedrooms, before departing.

Right before the man left, though, Axel yelled, his voice trembling with something approaching hysteria, "Just--who the hell _are _you? What the hell do you want with us?"

The man, DiZ, simply stared back at Axel, his expression unreadable. At length, he said, his rich voice ringing through the vast hall, "Get cleaned up and rest first. Then I will explain everything."

"Awww, _fuck_--" Axel retorted, but broke off, turning angrily to the side. DiZ seemed to have viewed this as Axel conceding defeat, so swept soundlessly off. Leaving the motley group of slayers and vampires to stand there, until Demyx, still tired, suggested that maybe they _should _follow through the mysterious man's suggestion and get cleaned up and go to sleep.

And so that had brought him here. After his first hot shower in a week, Demyx had staggered into a sumptuously furnished bedroom and hurled himself in an instant on to the feather-soft bed, hugging the pillow and crooning his joy.

Sure, he was confused as all hell--but happy too. Maybe he didn't know why he was here, or just what the hell was going on, but at the very least he was somewhere that had working showers, bathrooms (thank everything...), soft beds, and seemed relatively far away from Saix and Xemnas and all other sorts of evil vampires.

"Oh, great, this is _great," _he groan-sobbed.

"Talking to yourself?"

Demyx jumped, startled at hearing the familiar voice laced with sardonic good humor. He tore his eyes from the soft white pillow to see someone standing in the open doorway.

A slight young man with a shock of slate-colored hair, clutching the doorframe with clawed fingers, surveying Demyx queringly with his visible dark blue eye. Zexion looked even paler than Demyx remembered, and much thinner--he could see the sharp angles of the vampire's cheekbones. And injured, too, though all his wounds (both recent and newly-inflicted) had been bandaged. Yet there was something different about the way he was carrying himself. Something more confident.

Zexion stepped into the room without asking for permission. He was wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe that seemed a size too big for his slender frame, similar to the one Demyx was wearing. Casting his gaze around the room, he said, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Er..." Demyx felt himself flush crimson. "No. Nothing at all."

"Are you certain? You sounded like...you were _enjoying _yourself." The barest hints of a smirk twitched the corners of Zexion's lips.

Demyx blushed brighter, knowing what Zexion was implying. "No, I wasn't doing _that_...uh, just...just come in. Ienzo."

Zexion twitched as if dispelling a fly. "That's not my name," he said sharply.

"Huh?" A familiar feeling of confusion twisted inside the slayer. "But you--you _said_--"

_Please, not another revelation-and-slash-or-explanation! I've had enough of those, thank you _very _much!_

Instead, Zexion said, looking bitter, "Not any longer. Ienzo is a fool and a weakling. Zexion...is something else."

Demyx realized what the vampire was talking about. He said, "Something better?"

"Not...I don't know." Zexion shook his head. "Perhaps not better...but _different._"

When he looked back at Demyx, there was such resolve flashing in his eyes that Demyx couldn't argue. He moved closer to the bed, but seemed to be waiting for permission to be allowed on it. Demyx said, patting the bed beside him, "C'mon. Get up here."

Zexion obeyed in a heartbeat, sliding across the floor with the grace Demyx had come to expect and clambering up the bed. As soon as he was next to Demyx, the slayer reached out and draped an arm over Zexion's shoulder, pulling the incubus closer to him. He rested one hand on Zexion's lower back, while teasing his soft slate-blue hair with the other, drinking in Zexion's intoxicatingly familiar presence. Moonlight, violets, blood, darkness, coffee...

All the scents and sensations that made up _Zexion, _the one who Demyx loved.

"You're not afraid?" murmured Zexion, curling up against Demyx's chest. "I _am _a hungry vampire..."

"No, you...you don't seem hungry anymore," noted Demyx. "When you're hungry, you seem...I don't know. More feral, I guess? But I can tell, you're not...not anymore."

"You are more astute than I give you credit for," laughed Zexion, the gentle notes of his laughter like falling raindrops. "I...he did feed me, from the blood bank, granted, but I'm not hungry anymore, so that's what matters..."

"He?" said Demyx.

"That man. DiZ. Whoever he is," replied Zexion in a mumble, nestling closer to Demyx so that the slayer could feel the puffs of his breath, cold as winter air, against his neck. The next second, he felt Zexion's mouth on his neck, nipping gently at the skin...

Demyx pushed Zexion away from him; gently, but with conviction. Zexion met Demyx's eyes, looking confused.

"What is it?" he said. "I thought...I thought you _wanted _this..."

He traced Demyx's chin with a cool finger. Demyx wrapped his hand around Zexion's slender wrist and brought it down to the incubus's side, shaking his head.

"But," said Zexion, sounding even more confused, "you...you wanted me on the bed...with _you_...I thought it meant that you..."

Of course. Zexion wouldn't understand; to him, physical contact was either punishment or sexual. Still, Demyx thought somewhat sadly, he'd thought Zexion might have learned _something _from spending so much time with Demyx...

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Look...it's possible to touch _without _sex being involved at all. Right now, I--I just want to hold you. I just want to hold you and be with you and know that you're here and I'm here and that's all that matters."

"That...that does not make any sense," retorted Zexion. Demyx laughed and ran a hand through Zexion's hair.

"It makes perfect sense to me. C'mon. Let me hold you."

Demyx had the feeling that Zexion was going to shoot back a retort, but instead the incubus buried his face into Demyx's chest and drew closer, wrapping his arms around the slayer's neck. It wasn't hard for Demyx to return the gesture in kind, stroking Zexion's hair with one hand and pressing on the vampire's back with the other, drawing him closer, so that all Demyx knew, all he saw and felt, was _Zexion, _the beautiful incubus with whom he'd been through so much. Zexion, who had come all this way--even killed--just for Demyx's sake.

He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Especially what Zexion had done to Roxas. It just wasn't--_right. _But at the same time, he couldn't help but admire, in the strangest way possible, the single-minded resolve that had drove Zexion to transform Roxas and attack Axel, all so that he could find Demyx. He'd never thought he meant that much to Zexion...

_And you say you _don't _love me._

At length, Zexion spoke, his voice low. "You...you've changed, haven't you, Demyx?"

"Changed?" Demyx blinked, unsettled by this tangent. "What--what do you mean?"

"You're different," said Zexion, staring into Demyx's eyes, looking strangely--bitter? "You've become...I suppose...you've become more mature. Harsher and sadder. More like...me."

_Mature? Harsher and sadder? _Demyx wasn't aware of any change, but he found himself wondering if his old self--the blithely happy musician who'd first stepped into Axel's villa--would have fought Xemnas. Would have stood his ground for Zexion. Maybe he was different. More decisive, but also much less cheerful than before.

Was that a good or bad thing?

He asked this to Zexion. "Do you like the new me, or the old me better?"

"I..." Zexion paused. "I don't know...it...it's difficult to decide..."

"It's all right," sighed Demyx, running his hand through Zexion's hair. "You don't have to." A pause, and then, "You've changed too."

"Have I?" said Zexion quietly, resting his chin on Demyx's shoulder. Demyx tightened his grip on the incubus and nodded.

"I don't know how...but it seems you're different. You seem...older, I guess."

"Older." Zexion twitched. "For someone who has lived for almost a century, a few months is nothing."

"I _know, _but I think these past few months have aged you more than the last century has," insisted Demyx. "I mean, _I'm _pretty sure I've aged more than I have in my entire life."

"You're just projecting your feelings on to me, then," scoffed Zexion, poking Demyx in the back of his neck with a claw. Demyx squeaked.

"Ow! Hey, don't do that...I'm serious, though." But then, smiling, a strange sense of relief washing over him, he said, "But I'm glad to see you're still in top form. Huh? You've got no problems making fun of me. _That _hasn't changed."

"Simply because you're still as mockable as ever," said Zexion with a dramatic sigh, though when Demyx looked at him the incubus was smirking. The relief magnified tenfold when he saw such a familiar expression on Zexion's face.

Apparently, even after everything they'd been through--after Zexion had turned Roxas and killed Axel, and then turned his back on his Superior forever; after Demyx had been captured by Xaldin, and had his dreams blasted apart--the two of them hadn't been _broken. _They'd been twisted, turned, torn, had their deepest hopes and realities ripped clean from their souls, but--

They were still whole. Still, beneath it all, beneath all the trauma and pain, the same people.

_Could I have done it--could _he _have done it--if we were alone? If we didn't have anyone else to turn to? _It had been the hope of Demyx, he knew, that had animated Zexion for so long. That had led him to the lengths he'd taken. And for Demyx, it had been the hope that Zexion would find him--and later, the feeling of Zexion holding him, reassuring him that not all was lost--that had kept him alive and whole.

_When did I come to depend on you so much? _He'd asked that of Zexion that time in the square. Zexion could easily ask him the same question.

A part of him wanted to voice these thoughts out loud, but Demyx knew he didn't have the eloquence to express them. They'd burn and choke and die in his throat, left as miserable stutterings because his mind couldn't convert his thoughts into words without sacrificing something crucial. So instead, he settled for tightening his grip on Zexion--the boy he _loved_--and drawing him closer.

Zexion returned Demyx's hug, mumbling, "I just insulted you. Why are you hugging me?"

Demyx just laughed and patted Zexion on the back. Zexion shook his head ruefully; Demyx felt it as an odd tickling sensation when Zexion's hair brushed his cheek.

"You're still an idiot..." sighed Zexion.

"And you're still as mean as ever, Zexy," said Demyx. "I guess, the more things change, the more they stay the same."

Zexion didn't reply to this except to tighten his grip. Demyx was perfectly fine with that. Let the inevitable explanations, questions, and plans come tomorrow. For now, he'd just content himself with Zexion's familiar presence. It was what he'd fought for--and come hell or high water, it was what he'd fight to keep.

* * *

Awwwww....fluff! I guess I _do _like Zemyx for fluffiness!

Anyway, I'm aware it was short...next chapter, "History" will be the explanation behind DiZ and more worldbuilding (I really, _really _like the world I've built here...I might swipe it for an actual novel for publication XD). I haven't finished it, though, and I won't be able to put it up before I leave for NYC, so for now...hope you're happy with at least a little preview:

_Demyx was startled by how--different--the older slayer appeared. Before, he'd sauntered with such confidence, smirked like he knew every secret in the world and how to exploit them. Now, he was walking, which rather broke Demyx's brain, because he realized he'd never seen Axel walking for real before, in such precise and measured steps. Instead of cut across by a smirk, Axel's face was flat and serious; even the ever-present teasing light to his green eyes had vanished. Nor did he sweep his eyes around inquisitively, surveying the scene spread before him and searching for an advantage to exploit; he kept his gaze focused, directed in a single point of purpose at DiZ._

And ohh...I forgot! This chapter marks the end of part two, "The Secrets"! Part three, "The Renegades" will begin with chapter next, and after that there are only ten chapters to go (plus an epilogue). I'm 2/3 the way through! Keep on encouraging me, people, with your marvelous reviews.


	21. History

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_21. History_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, OVERALL WEIRDNESS.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: I'm back, and I had a smash of a time in NYC! I especially loved all the Broadway plays, but hell, every single bit of the experience was awesome.

I did miss you wonderful readers, though, and so that's why I'm rewarding your patience with a new chapter of _Tainted But Beautiful. _We're into the third and final part, here. This is a surprisingly short chapter, but it at least has the explanation for DiZ (which I'm suprisingly proud of). And after that explanation you can all rest easy because there won't be any more for a while. All right, I lied...we have some concerning Zexion coming up. But not immediately!

So without further ado, let's see if my skills at exposition through dialogue have gotten any better. That is, commence chapter twenty-one!

* * *

Demyx didn't know how long he and Zexion waited in the sitting room, growing increasingly uncomfortable as they sat opposite DiZ and the only other resident of the manor (besides the servants), a young blonde girl named Namine. Namine seemed excessively shy, as she refused to meet their gazes but focused her attention on the sketchbook clasped in her hands. And DiZ...DiZ just kept staring at them with disturbingly emotionless amber eyes. Demyx squirmed under the mysterious man's stare, feeling like a frog on a dissection table.

So he settled for staring at the portraits on the opposite wall. There were many of them in the sitting room, all in gloomy oil paints and depicting either stern-faced eighteenth-century noblemen or gothic scenes of women swooning in the clutches of white-skinned vampires. Rather disturbing, but much less disturbing than DiZ's stare, Demyx told himself.

He was reassured by one factor only--Zexion's hand, tightly clenching his own. The incubus was sitting in the loveseat beside Demyx, one leg neatly folded over the other and resolutely meeting DiZ's stare. Every time Demyx's nerves grew too much, he'd just give Zexion's comfortingly cool hand a squeeze, and remind himself that he wasn't in this alone.

By now, though, he'd become increasingly disgruntled--not with himself, or Zexion, or DiZ or Namine or the ugly paintings, but--with _Axel._

_Just how long is that bastard taking to wake up, anyway?  
_

When Demyx had awoken with Zexion by his side, he'd drawn open the curtain and seen the sun high in the sky--at least ten in the morning. He'd found a note on the nightstand, telling him and Zexion to head to the sitting room when they were ready--there he'd explain everything. Demyx had woken Zexion, the two had gotten dressed, and followed DiZ's instructions.

When they'd arrived, DiZ explained that he wouldn't start talking until Axel and Roxas joined them. Hence, they'd sat and begun this dreadful waiting game.

It was past noon and Axel _still _wasn't here. Demyx couldn't believe that anyone could sleep that long. Sure, Axel had been through a lot--but, Demyx thought defensively, he and Zexion had been through even _more. _All Axel had done was die and come back to life, yet he was snoozing like Sleeping Beauty long after the kindap-victim Demyx and the victim-of-everything Zexion had awoken.

Yesterday, Demyx had been so overwhelmed that he wasn't in a mood to receive any more revelations. Now, though, after a restful sleep and a good meal, he felt refreshed enough to face anything. _Including _the truth. He was impatient for answers, especailly those concerning DiZ. Who was he? What had he done yesterday? Did he have some connection to Xemnas? Was he dangerous? An ally? Who was Namine? Where were they? What did he want with them? Why did he have such weird fashion sense?

All right, maybe not the _last _question...

"Zexy..." hissed Demyx surreptitiously to Zexion.

Zexion jumped as if someone had lit a fire beneath his seat; after all, Demyx hadn't spoken to him at all before. "What is it?" he mumbled out of the side of his mouth.

"Uh..." whispered Demyx back, suddenly feeling very self conscious, whispering secrets to Zexion while two others were watching. "Um...what's _taking _Axel? I mean, it's not like he went through a lot..."

"He died and came back to life," replied Zexion, still in that toneless mumble. "I'd say that would take quite a bit out of anyone, wouldn't you agree?"

Well...Demyx had to admit that did make sense.

Still, it didn't do anything for his impatience. Just before he felt like getting up and kicking over objects and maybe even ripping paintings from the walls out of frustration (or perhaps just for something to do), the door to the sitting room clicked open--and Axel stepped in.

Demyx was startled by how--_different_--the older slayer appeared. Before, he'd sauntered with such confidence, smirked like he knew every secret in the world and how to exploit them. Now, he was _walking, _which rather broke Demyx's brain, because he realized he'd never seen Axel walking for real before, in such precise and measured steps. Instead of cut across by a smirk, Axel's face was flat and serious; even the ever-present teasing light to his green eyes had vanished. Nor did he sweep his eyes around inquisitively, surveying the scene spread before him and searching for an advantage to exploit; he kept his gaze focused, directed in a single point of purpose at DiZ.

Axel had changed too, Demyx realized. He, too, had matured.

Once again, Demyx wasn't sure if he liked this new Axel or not.

Axel was followed by Roxas, his steps so light against the carpet that Demyx hadn't heard them. He kept his head down, so Demyx couldn't see his face, but something seemed different about _him, _too. _Well, of course he's different, he's been half-made or whatever! _He could see that in Roxas' new unearthly pallidness, in the claws at the tips of his fingers, in his noiseless gait. But more than anything...Roxas seemed more solemn, carrying around a heavier air. Much like Axel.

_He's changed too. We all have changed, after everything that happened to us. For better or worse, I can't say. All I know is that we're different._

"So? Don't hold back. _Tell us," _said Axel coldly.

"Have a seat first," said DiZ. "Then I will tell you, Axel La Monte."

"Tch." Axel twitched, and for a moment Demyx thought he was going to be his usual contrary self and refuse, but Axel then stepped into the room and hurled himself into the couch perpendicular to the loveseat. Roxas quickly followed and sat soundlessly beside Axel.

"So." Zexion spoke. "Are you going to answer our questions?"

"What questions do you have?" said DiZ, his rich voice rumbling through the room.

"How about," said Axel, "for starters, who the hell are you?"

"I do not believe that is your real name," said Zexion.

"Do you now?" DiZ blinked for the first time; Demyx responded with a startled blink of his own. "But I suppose that's natural...a vampire would understand about hidden names."

"Can you stop talking in riddles and cut to the fucking chase?" growled Axel.

Demyx tensed; this DiZ man was such a foreign entity he didn't know how he'd react to being insulted. Would he--_kill_--Axel? It was more than clear that DiZ had the power to, after all... And as much of a bastard as Axel could be at times, Demyx didn't want him to _die _just because he wouldn't stop being rude!

_But hey, he can just come back to life..._ thought an irreverent part of the slayer.

All of Demyx's worrying was for naught, though, as DiZ didn't seem to care at all about Axel's rude tone. He said, calmly as ever, "Certainly. You are right, Zexion, that my real name is not DiZ. I am...or rather, I _was_...once known as Ansem the Wise."

Demyx was quite sure his jaw had fallen open in surprise. Axel reacted in just as extreme a manner, hurling himself back against the couch and unleashing a peal of derisive laughter.

Zexion looked grouchy. "I assume that name has something to do with vampire slayers?"

"Yeah, sure," said Axel, while a worried-looking Roxas helped steady him. "Ansem the Wise was once the Grand Master of the Slayer Society. Like, two hundred years ago. He was known for being one of the best. Served for some twenty years...but he's _dead. _I mean, not even 'disappeared so they assumed he died' dead. Like, 'died and held a funeral and everything' dead. Got it memorized?"

Demyx winced. Not _that _phrase again...

But he knew. Of course he knew who Ansem the Wise was. He was the first name every student slayer learned--the great Grand Master who had helped institutionalize vampire slaying, bringing together all the disparate families, hunters-for-hire, and syndicates into a single Society. He'd taught individualistic slayers how to work together in teams, and thus increase the amount of vampires they killed. In a way, Ansem the Wise had been the first to introduce the concept of slayers killing vampires not for personal prestige or as a competition, but for the greater good of humanity.

"You can't be him," Axel was saying, glaring at DiZ. "He's dead."

"So were you, as I recall," said DiZ dryly. "And you believed Xemnas to be dead."

A strange note of pain entered his voice when he said Xemnas's name, but it vanished as soon as Demyx heard it, like frost disappearing under the rising sun. Zexion seemed to have noticed it too, because he tensed and clutched Demyx's hand even more tightly.

Not that Demyx minded...

"But _you _had a _funeral_--" Axel protested. "You have a _grave_--"

"There is nothing buried in the grave," said DiZ. "I faked my demise."

"Huh? Why?" yelled Axel. "And why are you still alive now? I mean, it's _been _two hundred years!"

DiZ sighed, a weary sound that seemed to contain the hardship of centuries. Demyx trembled hearing it, and tightened his grip on Zexion's hand. The incubus responded with an encouraging squeeze.

"It is...a complicated story," sighed DiZ. "There are facets to it that not even I understand. Yet I believe that after two hundred years spent piecing together information, watching and waiting, always waiting...I have been able to fill in most of the gaps to form a relatively plausible history."

Axel twitched, looking impatient. Demyx was starting to become impatient too--all this DiZ person was doing was _hedging! _He wanted to know, this instant; he couldn't handle the curiosity anymore, blazing hot like the sun in his chest.

"You must understand that two hundred years ago, at the height of my leadership," said DiZ--Ansem the Wise?--, "vampire slayers were far better organized and had far more of an identifiable hierarchy than they do nowadays. We had a system of assigning young slayers mentors from outside their family. Similar, I suppose, to the way that you mentored Demyx."

He nodded at Demyx, who flushed for some reason, feeling embarrassed at being under DiZ's scrutiny.

"Although we did try to ensure that there was more than a three year age difference between teacher and student..." continued DiZ. "As I aged, much discussion abounded as to who was going to be my student. He would have to be a slayer of utmost potential, of course, and from an appropriately high-ranking family..."

Zexion said, his voice tight and strained, clinging even tighter to Demyx's hand, "Xemnas."

Demyx jerked, and Axel swore out loud, while Roxas's eyes widened. DiZ seemed unperturbed by their reactions, though Namine shuffled a little bit backwards, looking nervous.

"You are correct," said DiZ flatly. "Xemnas came to me at the age of fourteen, scion of an Algerian family and already one of the more talented vampire slayers in the Society. I did not know, initially, that his abilities came from vampiric blood. His family had kept it a careful secret, knowing that they would most likely be punished for committing such an action. As they should have."

A darker, almost vengeful, note entered his voice with the last sentence. Demyx shuddered hearing that heavy dark emotion, even though he knew it wasn't aimed at him; it was the closest he'd heard DiZ getting to angry.

"Of course, I was not aware...how could I have been? No one could conceive of such a thing. I just believed Xemnas to be exceptionally talented. He was a quick learner, always eager to prove his worth. He absorbed my lessons like a sponge and stayed up late in the nights, long past when the last lamps died, reading slayer histories and manuals. But he was always best at the physical aspect of slaying. By the age of eighteen, he'd slain more vampires than many accomplished slayers had.

"Xemnas left my tutelage at the age of twenty-one, but I continued to follow his progress. I--I did so many things for him..." The note of pain returned to DiZ's voice, causing Demyx's heart to tremble in sympathy. "Looking back, I can hardly believe it. I pulled so many strings, eased so many restrictions--_I _helped raise him to his high position. By the time he was twenty-five, largely because of _my _recommendation, Xemnas was made a master slayer."

DiZ stared to the side, his robe shifting around him. The abjectness of his pose, the way he slumped his shoulders, stirred the stroke of a memory in Demyx--one of his own grandfather, slumping in his favorite rocking chair in the tenement kitchen and patting the five-year-old Demyx on the head, sighing about everything he'd lost, the chances he'd missed.

Demyx blinked hard and tried to swallow past the restriction in his throat. Zexion gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

After an uncomfortably long pause in which silence hung like a dust-laden shroud in the room, DiZ resumed his tale. "We were more than teacher and student. We were--we were the closest of friends. I had such high hopes for him. I even--I even told him that he could be Grand Master someday. What a fool I was..."

"Then Xemnas disappeared," said Zexion, his tone perfectly flat and emotionless. "The other slayers assumed he was dead, but you..."

"I had already begun to suspect something was wrong with him in the year leading up to his supposed death," said DiZ. "How his eyes would sometimes acquire a feral light...how he flinched from strong sunlight...how he took care to avoid smelling blood. I suspected, but did not know exactly what--until the day after his 'death', his parents approached me. They flung themselves at my feet, begged for forgiveness...and then they explained to me what they had done."

The vengefulness had reentered his voice, and he sat up straighter, his back rigid as a wall. Demyx could no longer connect the fierce, red-wrapped figure before him with the sad old man his grandfather had been.

"I didn't know what to do with them--nothing like this had ever happened in the history of vampire slaying. Their crime was one deserving of execution. Instead, I forced them to travel with me across Europe, searching for Xemnas. We found him in St. Petersburg, having just taken control of the Russian Coven. Undeniably a vampire."

"You fought him?" said Axel, his eyes wide.

DiZ nodded. "The three of us battled against Xemnas--no, the monster that Xemnas had become. He had the full force of a coven behind him, but insisted on facing us alone--his parents and his mentor. Even then, he was...he was too much. He slaughtered his mother first. Then his father. All the while, he taunted them for turning him into what he was now. Then, only I was left...

"We fought for the entire night. It was a close one--I had not become Grand Master of the Slayer Society for no reason. Yet I had mentored him, taught him everything he knew, and he was younger and more vicious than me. His transformation had also made him more powerful than he had been previously. He...he defeated me. Yet he did not kill me. Oh, how I begged him to do the deed--to let me die in repetence for letting him become this monster.

"But he chose to leave me alive. I still do not know why. It is the one thing he has ever done for me that I am thankful for. At the time, of course, I wished to die myself. I crawled through the blood of his parents, searching for a weapon with which to kill myself--but when I found his father's blood-stained knife, I could not bring myself to end my life. How could I, when Xemnas was still alive and only growing more powerful? I was the only one who could stop him. It was...my _duty._ So instead of stabbing my heart with the blade, I ran it over the palm of my hand, let the blood of Xemnas's parents mingle with my own."

"Huh? What?" Axel's eyebrows were twitching. "Why?"

Those three words summed up perfectly how Demyx was feeling.

DiZ didn't seem perturbed. "I did not know why I did it, at the moment. I believe it was because...well... I despised Xemnas's parents for letting their ambition create a monster, but I had been friends with them once. And no one deserved to die like that--their throats torn open by their own child. It was the best way I could avenge their deaths, letting their blood cycle through my veins, giving me their strength. Adding their griffin's blood to my sphinx blood. It was a dangerous gamble, and I remained horribly sick for days as my body adjusted to the new blood--but when it was all over, I found I had all the abilities that they had once had.

"That gave me an idea--but one I could not carry out as I was, the Grand Master and a public figure. So I staged my death. It was not hard--by slayer standards I was positively elderly at fifty-five. After my funeral, I retreated to the vast frontier that was the United States in those days. There, I could experiment in peace."

"Experiment..." Zexion let out a sharp intake of breath.

"You have the blood of a lot of kinds of--of those creatures in you? Don't you?" said Roxas, his eyes wide. DiZ nodded stiffly.

"It was difficult, tracking down sources of mythical blood--I had to throw aside the ethics that had guided me as Grand Master to lie, cheat, and bribe my way to blood. But I had to do it. I reasoned that if Xemnas's strength came from his blood, then I would become even more powerful using many different sources of blood. I gave myself a phoenix's longevity--" He smiled bitterly at Axel "A dragon's strength, a unicorn's fleetness, a fairy's magic, a manticore's ferocity, a lich's command of darkness..."

"That's not possible," said Axel. "You'd _die _if you mingled so many different kinds of blood in your body."

"Yet I am here, speaking to you," said DiZ, a slight sardonic lilt to his voice. "You are right, though, that it has not been easy on me. Why do you think I keep my face hidden? The experimentation has--has mutilated me. You would see a monster beneath the mask. I had to become a monster to defeat a monster. To immerse myself in darkness so I could destroy that very darkness. That is why I shed my old name and became DiZ. Darkness in Zero."

The mouth visible through the bandages twitched up in a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. Demyx's heart hammered; he couldn't think of anything to say. This was just--so _much. _Over the past two days, he'd learned more than he ever had in his lifetime, and it was making his head spin.

"So...um..." He struggled to piece together the information he'd just learned. "You've been--all this time--you've been working in the background? Working against, um, Xemnas and his bunch?"

"Not as actively as I would wish," said DiZ, shaking his head. "Mostly, I have been watching and quietly taking stock of Xemnas's activities. I cannot move against him without followers or resources, neither of which I had until recently."

He glanced at Namine--Demyx blinked in surprise at the emotion in that glance. Not DiZ's earlier harshness or bitterness, but something almost tender. Like the way Demyx's grandfather had often glanced at him...

_Why the hell am I suddenly remembering all this? I thought--I thought I'd left it all behind, that night--_

"Recently, I chanced upon this manor--the residence of my last remaining descendants," said DiZ.

Namine flushed, looking a bit embarrassed, but managed a nod. Demyx stared at her, bug-eyed, unable to see any resemblance between her and the solemn red-robed man standing beside her. Then again, DiZ _had _said he'd mutilated himself beyond recognition...and there were two hundred years separating them.

"Namine's parents were killed two years ago by a vampire attack," DiZ went on. "I moved in then, and have since made it the base of my operations."

"Some operations," said Axel, his tone cutting. "So you've got a little girl as your only follower and some manor as your base. _Obviously, _you're prepared to take on Xemnas no problem."

Once again, Demyx felt the urge to warn Axel to act a little more politely, but when DiZ spoke, he didn't sound perturbed at all. "I am aware of that."

"DiZ has been spending all his time searching for people he thinks will help him." Namine spoke for the first time, startling Demyx. "It hasn't been easy..."

"I needed slayers that were not only strong but unorthodox as well," explained DiZ. "Most slayers cannot fathom that so many covens would aggregate under the leadership of a single vampire. That isn't the way they were taught covens worked."

"Covens are _supposed _to be entirely independent and constantly in competition," said Axel, reciting a lesson familiar to Demyx.

Zexion coughed behind his hand, though Demyx suspected that was to hide a laugh.

"As Zexion can attest, that has not been true for at least two hundred years," said DiZ. "Most slayers cannot conceive of such a thing, however. Nor would they like knowing that Xemnas was once a slayer as well--or even more shockingly, the fact that he would ally with werewolves. I watched, I waited, I bided my time until I could find enough slayers who met my requirements..."

He looked up and cast a bitter smile to the four assembled vampires and slayers. "I did not imagine, of course, that two of you would be vampires."

Roxas convulsed and buried himself deeper into the couch with those words; Axel rested a hand on his shoulder and glared at DiZ.

"Are you trying to say you want us to--to fight in your fucking holy war?"

Only Axel would use the words "fucking" and "holy" in such close proximity, thought Demyx with grim good humor. The humor slipped away, however, quick as the sun disappearing behind a cloud. He couldn't think sardonic thoughts when there was so much tension humming through the air, so much he could have choked on it. What Axel had said cut to the heart of the matter--what was going to happen to them from now on.

DiZ said, his eyes hard, "You do not have to if you do not want to--but let me ask you this, Axel: do you want to see Xemnas defeated?"

Axel growled and slouched in the couch, averting his eyes and mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like "cough blackmail cough". Roxas, however, sat up straighter, resolve flashing in his blue eyes, and said in a voice so fierce Demyx didn't reocgnize it for an instant:

"Of course we want to defeat him. There's nothing--_nothing_--I want more."

DiZ blinked, looking surprised, but when he spoke he sounded calm as ever. "Well. What do you have to say to _that, _Axel?"

Axel's mouth twisted; he looked like he was going to say "Shove it up your ass," but instead growled, "All right, all right...I _do _want to kill that bastard anyway--but I'm not doing it for _you, _got it memorized?"

"Yes," said DiZ calmly. "You are doing it for Roxas and Demyx."

"I didn't--" sputtered Axel.

DiZ talked over Axel. "That is what especially makes you--_all _of you--so remarkable. You are...selfless." Another bitter smile convulsed across his face. "Unlike me. I will not dance around it--I only want revenge for my own selfish reasons. But you...you fight not for yourselves. Not for glory. But for each other."

Demyx felt his face grow hot; it was just so odd being praised by--by _Ansem the Wise _of all people! But he thought that what DiZ was saying felt right. Hadn't he stood up to Xemnas to protect Zexion? And hadn't Axel and Roxas returned the favor for him? And Zexion...

Zexion had done so much, all for Demyx's sake. He tightened his grip on the incubus's hand, and drew him closer. Zexion stiffened at first, but the leaned into the gesture, resting his head on Demyx's shoulder.

"And you, especially, Zexion."

Demyx jumped when he heard DiZ addressing Zexion. The vampire blinked, pulling away from Zexion and facing DiZ. "Yes?" he said in a tone of polite disinterest, though it held a slight edge.

"I have--until I met you, I had never thought of turning to a vampire for an ally," said DiZ. "After all, I am a vampire slayer. But you, a mere incubus, stood up to the Superior of the Coven of Thirteen. I have never witnessed such a sight before. I won't easily forget it."

Zexion didn't respond to this, but it seemed to Demyx that he held his head a little higher.

DiZ continued, his tone becoming gentler, "It must have been impossibly difficult--I know how tight the bonds of coven loyalty can be--"

"It was not," said Zexion, his voice quiet as a wingbeat. "I did what was necessary. For Demyx."

A little giddy sensation, like a newborn butterfly, leapt up Demyx's stomach. He'd never have imagined Zexion to say anything like that, especially when Zexion continued to deny that their relationship wasn't romantic. But it wasn't love Zexion was speaking with. It was something different, stronger. More real.

Once, during one of the periodic gathering of vampire slayers which Axel used to always take him to, Demyx had witnessed two elderly (that is, upwards of forty) slayers, one covered with scars and the other missing a leg, greeting each other with an embrace and exulted laughter. Back then, when he'd seen it, he'd felt a tremor of emotion he hadn't understand then--but understood now. It'd been camaraderie, the bond between two veteran soldiers who'd seen every battle together, that had driven them to such an emotional reunion.

He'd achieved something similar with Zexion.

DiZ laughed, astonishing Demyx--he almost fell off the couch but Zexion caught him in time. Still, DiZ had never laughed before and his laugh was creepy as _hell. _It sounded like the way Demyx had always imagined Jack the Ripper to laugh: a serial killer laugh.

Mercifully, DiZ terminated his laugh afer only a few peals. He said, facing Zexion, "Marvelous. I don't think you quite understand how special you truly are, Zexion."

"Do not talk down to me." Demyx had to admire Zexion's daring--his and Axel's both. Demyx certainly would never have the nerve to talk back to Ansem the Wise like that!

DiZ smiled slightly, but much to Demyx's relief didn't laugh. He said, "You are sensitive to being patronized?"

"For obvious reasons," said Zexion icily.

Axel cleared his throat; all eyes whipped in his direction. He sprawled like a lion against the couch, glaring a challenge at DiZ. "You know, why don't we stop waffling around and cut to the chase?"

Axel was pretty good at this, Demyx thought, which didn't make sense since _Axel _was a person who tended to walk gingerly around unpleasant truths like landmines. Like that time, the time two years ago when he and Demyx had first--

Demyx squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the memory, and tightened his grip on Zexion's hand.

"Of course," said DiZ. Demyx started wondering if anything would ever set him off. "You are right that I am asking the four of you to fight against Xemnas--but not for me. You said it yourselves: You all want him defeated. All I am asking, then, is for you to join with me in it."

He continued, his eyes flashing. "You do not have to give an answer immediately. I know you're all overwhelmed by everything that has happened to you."

_I'll say, _Demyx thought, but wasn't flippant enough to say it out loud.

"Your point being?" said Zexion.

"All of you may rest in the manor," said DiZ, "until you feel ready to make a decision. Once you do, we must act quickly--but right now I am not in a hurry."

But there was an edge, an undercurrent to everything he said, to the way he moved, like the dim halo of light around a solar eclipse. He _was _impatient, and though he would never let it, he did want them to make a decision in the affirmative as fast as possible, so he could finally move ahead with his two-hundred-year-old grudge and take down his turncoat student...

Still, thought Demyx sourly, DiZ had waited for two hundred years. Surely he could wait a few days more!

Because even after the day spent resting, he still didn't feel well enough to strap on his weapons and go out and face Xemnas and the whole damned Coven of Thirteen. His old injuries, even if they'd been tended to, were still aching, and his head was spinning from learning all this new information. _Ansem the Wise...alive...mutilated...living for revenge... _He needed another day--at least--to process it.

Axel (who seemed to be making the decisions for all of them...) seemed to agree. "I think that'd be wise. We need..."

For some reason, he and Roxas exchanged glances, before Axel continued. "...time."

Zexion jerked his head in a nod, and Demyx said, "Yeah...give us a bit."

"Very well, then," said DiZ, standing, his robe pooling around him like a bloody waterfall. "Go, then. I have--business to take care of."

Demyx almost wanted to say something sarcastic about how DiZ didn't seem to have anything to do except brood about revenge in the manor, and Axel's mouth moved as if he _was _going to voice a snide comment, but he seemed to think the better of it after glancing at DiZ. Demyx could understand why. There was a sort of horrid weariness to the way the man was standing; he reminded Demyx of a statue weathered and overgrown with moss, or the rusted and barnacle-crusted hull of a decommissioned battleship. Someone ancient and tired, yet undefeated.

"Go," he said again, his voice quiet.

Namine stood to join his side, clutching her sketchbook to her chest and keeping her eyes averted. Still, the stiff set of her shoulders seemed to suggest what DiZ had stated--that Demyx, Zexion, Axel and Roxas had best get out as soon as possible.

Demyx cast one last glance at the two of them, the old man and the girl, before following Zexion out of the room. His heart and head both felt heavy, as if they'd been stuffed with stones. He could understand, now, when people said that knowledge _hurt._

_But it's better to know and hurt, than to not know and be happy, _he thought grimly.

* * *

"DiZ..." said Namine quietly after the door shut behind Roxas, returning the sitting room to the silence that usually hung thick as dust over the manor. "Do you...do you really think they'll--they're the ones?"

"If they are not, then who else could be?" said DiZ, shaking his head in the curious resigned way that always caused pity to tighten in Namine's chest. He stepped forward to examine the largest portrait on the wall--one that Namine had sat in front of for days on end, trying slavishly to reproduce. Her parents, hand in hand, smiling. It had been commissioned only days before their deaths, and was the last--and therefore fondest--memory she had of them.

DiZ rested a gloved hand tenderly on the edge of the painting's gilt frame. He hadn't known her parents well, having spent only a week with them before their deaths, but Namine knew that their memory weighed heavily on him. Like the memory of what he'd done with Xemnas, and the memories of the other vampire slayers he'd tutored in the two hundred years since only to watch them fail.

She wondered, sometimes, how he could live like he did, constantly haunted like a fugitive by memories acquired over two long, painful centuries. He had to be stronger than anyone to do it.

"Truthfully..." sighed DiZ, gazing at her parents' shining painted smiles. "Truthfully, Namine, I have grown tired of waiting. So tired...so you see, to me, it does not matter if they are the right ones."

He spun to face the door, his cloak swinging in a curtain of red. Folding his arms, he said, "They _must _be the right ones. They have no choice."

Namine nodded; she could understand where he was going from, even if she didn't like it. After all--they were all so _young. _That boy, Roxas, he couldn't be any older than her and none of them seemed old enough to be given this sort of responsibility. They were being forced to fight a grown man's war, for the sake of his grudge.

But what else could she do? She couldn't help DiZ; her own skills were lackluster, since her parents had believed more in her living a happy life than in following their footsteps. Like it or not, there wasn't a thing she could do for them.

DiZ's revenge was close, and he wouldn't let anyone's hesitation stop him now.

* * *

I don't know if anyone will catch it, but Namine's parents are supposed to be Sora and Kairi. XD I know, but come on, canonly, she basically is like their messed-up love child. No, I do not have a problem with SoKai, so long as you throw Riku into the mix and have a happy threesome.

Again, I can't promise when the next update will come up (because tomorrow I am commencing serious work on that novel), but it'll (hopefully) be reasonably soon. Here's a tantalizing little teaser from what I have written of chapter next, "Execution":

_"Urgent." Demyx tried to think about what would register for "urgent" on DiZ's radar, and a tremor coursed through his body. He envisioned a mob of vampires surrounding the manor, or, heaven forbid, Xemnas finally finding their location, or a million other doomsday scenarios. Glancing at Zexion, he saw that the incubus's face was drawn closed as a curtained window, his expression unreadable. Was Zexion thinking the same thing? Or maybe he was thinking that Demyx was being an idiot as always, or wondering whether to have type B or type O blood for lunch. Demyx didn't know._

Well, it's a bit humorous, now is it? Anyway, keep reading and sending those awesome reviews in my way. You readers are the best, and I know I say a variation of that in every chapter, but I mean it with all my heart! If it wasn't for your support, this project would have folded a long, long time ago. So congratulate yourselves a ton.


	22. Execution

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_22. Execution_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Here's a (rather late) update, just to show I'm not actually abandoning this story yet.

I'm not quite sure what to think on this chapter...though I do like the scene where everyone is talking to DiZ, I'm not terribly fond of the AkuRoku scene. Yes, there is an AkuRoku scene in this chapter, so yay, you get that piece of pairing goodness.

You readers can judge, though. And I should stop babbling so you can enjoy this chapter.

* * *

"Too early," groaned Demyx, burying his face in his pillow. But the insistent rapping at the bedroom door wouldn't stop. "Five more minutes, Axel..."

Honestly, Axel that douchebag, always waking him up at the crack of dawn and barely giving him time for a shower and a few bites of breakfast before beginning morning lessons. Whenever Demyx tried nodding off while Axel lectured about dismemberment techniques or coven histories, he'd snap Demyx back to attention with questions on what he'd been talking about and then Demyx would be left a fool groping for answers...

He rolled over on the bed, wondering why it felt so much softer than the hard servant's bunk he usually slept in...had he fallen asleep in Axel's room? Now, that was embarrassing...

When he flailed a hand out, he struck something--something soft. An arm. _Axel? _Wait--what the hell, since when had Axel crept into bed with him? They hadn't fallen asleep in the same room since he was nine! But wait wait wait, Axel couldn't be in bed beside him because Axel was rapping at the door--

"Get it," grumbled a familiar voice that most definitely wasn't Axel's.

Demyx could imagine the sound of shattering glass as his settings reassembled themselves, from Axel's manor five years ago to DiZ's manor. He clung tightly to the sheets, disoriented. It hadn't been Axel beside him, but Zexion. And the person rapping at the door...

With a groan, Demyx hauled himself to a sitting position. He'd been sleeping so well, too! But he must have been dreaming of Axel; why else would he have mistaken _here _for Axel's place?

The knocking grew even more insistent. Demyx fished around for something to put on when he realized he was only in his boxers. "I'm _coming!" _he called, throwing aside a pillowcase draped over the nearest chair. Just where _had _he put all his clothes?

"Hurry it up, it sounds urgent," said Zexion. Demyx cast the vampire a glance; Zexion was lying on the back, propped on one elbow, gazing at the ceiling. He was wearing a shirt several sizes too big for him--it took Demyx a moment to recognize it as his _own _shirt.

"Why don't you get it yourself?" he said sourly. "You're awake and kind of dressed."

Zexion rolled over with a sigh that sounded less exasperated than dramatic. "I don't feel like it."

"Don't _feel _like it?" sputtered Demyx. "What--what the--what the hell is _that? _I--I'm telling you, I'm _coming!"_

He strode right up to the door, swinging it wide open.

Namine unleashed a little scream and staggered back, a furious pink flush coloring her cheeks. "Oh--I--I'm sorry--I didn't mean to--"

"Huh?" Demyx blinked, confused; he was pretty sure he hadn't swung the door open _that _hard. A low snicker from behind him caused him to lower his eyes to himself and realize he was wearing nothing but his rubber-ducky-patterned boxers. Namine, pressing herself to the opposite wall of the hall outside the bedroom, her blue eyes bugging out, clearly had never seen so much of a man's body before.

_Well, _thought Demyx, resisting the urge to shoot an evil glare at Zexion, _you stole my clothes! _

"Umm...sorry," he said, moving to the side so that he was no longer standing framed by the door. "Umm..."

"S-sorry..." Namine was still blushing and hadn't moved any closer. "If--if I'm interrupting anything--"

Zexion snickered again; Demyx had the feeling Zexion was taking monumental enjoyment from this. Hastily, he said, "No, no, you're not interrupting anything, um, why'd you wanna see me..."

Namine straightened, looking somewhat calmer, though the pink tinge had yet to leave her face. "DiZ wants to see you...both of you. He wouldn't tell me for what..."

All sleepiness and embarrassment were banished by Namine's words. Demyx felt like he'd been doused with a dose of cold water, his every nerve shooting to perfect attention. Something was happening, whatever it was, something _important_.

He exchanged glances with Zexion. The incubus sat up with the easy grace Demyx had come to both love and envy, casting Namine a piercing look. She shivered slightly, but stood her ground and met his gaze.

"Didn't he say that we weren't to be disturbed until we had made our decision?" said Zexion.

"He--he didn't tell me what it was for, but he made it sound urgent," said Namine, somewhat defensively.

"Urgent." Demyx tried to think about what would register for "urgent" on DiZ's radar, and a tremor coursed through his body. He envisioned a mob of vampires surrounding the manor, or, heaven forbid, Xemnas finally finding their location, or a million other doomsday scenarios. Glancing at Zexion, he saw that the incubus's face was drawn closed as a curtained window, his expression unreadable. Was Zexion thinking the same thing? Or maybe he was thinking that Demyx was being an idiot as always, or wondering whether to have type B or type O blood for lunch. Demyx didn't know.

"Come to the sitting room as soon as you're dressed," said Namine in a quick breath, before darting away without a backwards glance. Demyx unleashed the sigh of relief that she hadn't. She clearly had been frazzled out of her nerves speaking to a guy in his boxers and, well--a vampire. He felt a bit sorry for her; living with DiZ couldn't be easy.

"Urgent," said Zexion, echoing what Demyx had said earlier. "What do you think he means by that?"

He was looking at Demyx now, but there was still no emotion to his face. Getting the uncomfortable feeling that he was addressing a mannequin, Demyx lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

"I--I dunno. I guess we'd better go see...but first of all, give me back my shirt!"

* * *

DiZ stood in the middle of the room like a blood-drenched statue, somehow managing to hold three pieces of paper in one hand and _not _look like a complete fool doing it. He glanced briefly as Demyx and Zexion entered the room together.

Axel and Roxas were already there, their faces identically pale and drawn as they occupied the same couch they'd been in yesterday. Yesterday. It already felt like years ago to Zexion, and being a vampire, he tended to view days as being short as hours.

"Well? What is it?" said Demyx, biting his lip and fidgeting with his collar and tapping his foot and performing all sorts of nervous tics that filled Zexion with the urge to slap him.

He didn't do anything that drastic, but did prod Demyx in the small of the back with a claw and hissed in the slayer's ear, "Sit down, you're making a fool of yourself."

"What?" squeaked Demyx. Zexion grabbed him by the wrist and led him to the same love seat they'd occupied yesterday, plunking Demyx down ungracefully and sinking sinuous as a shadow beside the startled blonde. He watched DiZ, examining the papers held in the masked man's hand--two were simply pieces of ordinary printer paper, folded into squares, but one was parchment folded into an envelope...

A faint tremor ran down Zexion's spine when he realized that the envelope looked exactly like the messages the Coven of Thirteen used to pass among themselves. How had DiZ come into possesssion of it...?

"Okay, we're all here," said Axel, looking discontent. "Now _talk. _Somehow I don't think those papers are tax forms."

"You are rather...impatient...Axel," said DiZ, frowning at the red-haired slayer, who merely scowled and folded his arms.

"I'm just sick as hell of fudging around. Why'd you call us?"

Zexion had to admit he had been wondering the same thing. He glanced at the parchment envelope again, and felt the chilly dread tighten in his stomach. Something to do with him...?

"I have multiple contacts everywhere, ways of infiltrating communication lines," explained DiZ. "That is how I chanced upon these."

"And what the hell _are _they?" demanded Axel.

DiZ, as always, didn't seem perturbed by Axel's rudeness. Calmly, he said, "These...these are execution orders."

The room erupted at that.

"_Execution?" _hollered Demyx, leaping to his feet like someone had lit a Tesla coil beneath his seat. "What the--for who--_why?"_

"Huh? Don't tell me they're--" Axel's face twisted nastily, as if he wasn't sure whether he should be scowling or glaring or suppressing nausea.

"Who--who do they want to execute? And who?" Roxas' voice issued in high-pitched, panicked bursts, his eyes wide pools of blue.

"Me," said Zexion quietly, an icy revelation settling in his veins. "That one--that one is for me."

He indicated the parchment envelope. DiZ nodded solemnly.

"But you were expecting this, were you not--Ienzo?"

Zexion hissed and recoiled as if he'd been burned by silver. "That is not my name."

"According to the execution form, it is," said DiZ, his tone flat as he unfolded the envelope. He held it out to Zexion, who took it even though he already knew what it would say. He stepped back from DiZ and smoothed out the creases in the parchment, scanning the shiny black words in the elegant, curling script which all vampiric clerks employed:

_Coven of Thirteen_

_Execution Orders_

_For an incubus Ienzo (outside name: Zexion) and his servants, allegiance Northern Coven_

_On charges of high treason against the Superior_

_Bring in alive_

Zexion wasn't aware that his hands had been shaking until he felt warm fingers close around his wrist; he jumped, startled, but relaxed when he felt Demyx's familiar sea-salt and ocean-breeze presence. The slayer offered him a consoling smile that didn't quite reach his sea-colored eyes, before leading Zexion back to the couch.

"It's all right, Zexy," he said quietly. "It's okay, don't--don't panic--"

_I'm not panicking, _Zexion wanted to say. And he _wasn't. _He'd known ever since he'd first stood straight and said, "no", to the Superior. But to see it codified, spelled in neat script on paper...that was an entirely different matter. Suddenly his imminent death had become real, something he could hold in his hand. He scanned the orders again, even though there wasn't much to them. _Charges of high treason... Bring in alive..._

Bring in alive. He knew what that meant; Xemnas wanted to do the deed himself. Remembering his last encounter with Xemnas, Zexion shuddered; Demyx tightened his grip on Zexion's shoulder and drew him in closer, enveloping the incubus in his comfortable warmth. Zexion buried his face into Demyx's shirt, seizing on to Demyx's solidity for something to anchor him to reality. Demyx was patting him on the head now, running fingers through his hair with a gentle irregularity that comforted Zexion, somehow; perhaps because it was so _Demyx._

"All right, that's not a surprise." Axel's harsh voice cut through the moment, snapping Zexion back to what they'd been discussing in the first place. He pulled away from Demyx, ignoring the slayer's reluctant whine.

"We already knew they were going to issue execution orders for the vampire," continued Axel, glaring at DiZ. "What about _those? _Those are orders from slayer HQ, aren't they? Who the hell do they want to see dead?"

"It--it couldn't be _you, _could it--" Roxas turned to Axel, wild with panic.

Axel shook his head mutely. "I didn't do anything wrong..."

DiZ spoke over them all, his rich voice commanding all of their attention. "One of these is an execution order for a vampire slayer. The other is a standard posting for a vampire, which has been up for some time already."

"Me," said Zexion in an instant. "Well, I was expecting that. Ever since I..._killed_...Axel."

He cast Axel a sidelong glare, which Axel returned with a slight smirk that disappeared as quickly as a fleeing bird. Zexion almost returned the smirk, but couldn't summon up even sardonic humor. As much as he was pretending to not be bothered by the execution orders...it still felt like a strange, heavy weight to know that he was wanted not just by vampires but by slayers as well. He was outcast from both worlds, with no one by his side but fellow outcasts. Reflexively, he leaned closer to Demyx, and Demyx wound his hand around Zexion's wrist, his familiarity a greater comfort than Zexion would ever admit.

"It is not simply Zexion to whom this posting is referring," DiZ was saying. "The standard procedure with slaying any pureblood vampire is to eliminate their servants as well."

Zexion kept his eyes averted as he said, "You mean...Roxas."

"Roxas? What--?" sputtered Axel.

"Why?" said Demyx, his tone almost whining. "Roxas hasn't done anything wrong."

"Yeah, if anyone deserves to die, it's _him _for doing that to Roxas!" yelled Axel, pointing an accusing finger at Zexion. Zexion stumbled back, startled by the vitriol shining in Axel's eyes; Demyx tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"I already have two execution orders on my head," said Zexion, trying to keep his tone as icy as possible. "What more do you want?"

"It is standard slayer procedure, as I have said," said DiZ, cold humor in his tone.

"Fuck that," said Axel heatedly. "They can't kill Roxas for something he didn't do."

"Axel...it's okay, I mean, I--_I _was the one who--" mumbled Roxas, staring at the carpet.

"It's not your goddamned fault," said Axel. "You hear me? It's not your fault so don't blame yourself for it, got it memorized?"

Roxas didn't say anything to that, but lowered his head further. Zexion watched their interactions with a faint sense of amusement, but the situation was too grave for the amusement to last much longer than a heartbeat. He said, his voice harsh in the silent room:

"And the third order...?"

"Is for Demyx," said DiZ as flatly as ever--but there was an edge to his voice, an undercurrent that hadn't been there before. Something dark, yet gentle at the same time. _Sympathy_.

"_What?" _Demyx squawked aloud, almost leaping off the couch; Zexion had to tighten his grip around Demyx's wrist to keep him from doing so. The slayer was convulsing so badly, trying to throw off Zexion's grip and do--_what, _he didn't know--that it was almost impossible to hold him back.

"What what what _what!" _Demyx continued screaming. "I don't _geddit! _Who'd wanna kill me? Why? I haven't done anything wrong!"

Even though Demyx was making a complete fool of himself, Zexion had to admit he could see the logic in Demyx's argument. All that had happened to Demyx was that he'd gotten kidnapped. That was certainly no cause for the _death _penalty.

"Yes, why?" he said, much more composed than Demyx. He cast a sharp glare at Axel, who he assumed would have the best answer to this question. "Demyx has committed no crime worthy of execution, as far as I am aware."

Axel glared at him but apparently couldn't think of something sufficiently immature and-slash-or vindictive to say in response, so he settled for explaining why. "Listen...Dems..." he said heavily. Pointedly ignoring Zexion. Go figure.

"What?" This time, Demyx sounded almost sulky as he slumped against the couch.

"It's...welll..." Axel looked profoundly uncomfortable. "Well...you were kidnapped."

"So?" yelled Demyx. "Since when do _kidnapping victims _get the death penalty? That's--that's completely fucked up!"

Demyx had just stolen the words from Zexion's mouth. He glared at Axel as well, but the slayer continued to resolutely ignore him. "You don't understand...a vampire slayer who is captured by a pureblood vampire is a liability."

"It was standard practice in my day as well," said DiZ. His tone was flat as ever, but the undercurrent of sympathy hadn't vanished.

Axel nodded, though he looked like he was swallowing bile. "Especially a human slayer...if a human slayer is captured by a pureblood vampire and isn't heard from for seven days, slayer HQ automatically assumes the worst. A--a vampire slayer, like me, would know to kill himself before he can give anything away. But a human slayer wouldn't know to...so that's a cause for--for an execution order. To make sure the human slayer doesn't walk away knowing more than he ought to. Got it memorized?"

Demyx had finally stopped struggling--but that didn't fill Zexion with any sense of relief. He seemed to have gone stiff with shock. Zexion tightened his grip on Demyx's hand, squeezing encouragingly, but Demyx didn't even react, remaining still as a statue.

He said, in a voice so tiny that even Zexion's sharp ears could barely hear, "That...that's _terrible_..."

"Demyx," said Axel, his throat convulsing.

"That's _terrible!" _yelled Demyx, surging to his feet so quickly he almost dragged Zexion up as well. Zexion quickly released his grip on Demyx's hand. "That's--that's the _worst! _Listen to yourself, Axel, just fucking _listen_...you're talking about--about my kind of slayer like--like we're not really people, like we're dumb animals or something...that's just..."

His voice cracked at the end and he lowered his head. No one spoke for a long, long time, to the point that the silence became uncomfortable. Zexion didn't know what to say to end it, though. He'd never been bothered by the way that vampire slayers worked--it was exactly like vampiric hierarchy. A powerful pureblood upper-class controlling the mundane animals, lowly servants used for cleaning trash off the streets. Demyx had never known that world, though. All along, he'd clung to his egalitarian ideals, his dream that through hard work alone he could be a proper vampire slayer too.

Now, to have it taken from him in such a strong blow...

"I just..." said Demyx quietly. "So I really...I'm not worth anything...not even as a slayer, or a human being, I'm just an animal that's found out too much so you're gonna _kill _me..."

He sounded almost ready to cry--just as he had that time on the plaza. Zexion's response came without thought; he stood as well and rested his hand on Demyx's shoulder, giving the warm skin an encouraging squeeze. Demyx shuddered and exhaled a rattling breath, clenching his hands into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. When he looked back at Zexion, though, there were no tears in his sea-blue eyes, and he even managed to crack a smile though it slipped away as quickly as melting snow.

"Ha ha ha," he said shakily. "I guess I shouldn't complain...I mean, _you're _the one with two death orders on your head..."

"Don't be an idiot," murmured Zexion, gently guiding Demyx down to the couch again. "And you're not an animal, either. You're...Demyx."

"No," said Demyx with a low little snicker that was completely incongruous, coming from _him. _"I'm dead is what I am."

"No you're not!" Axel's sharp voice sliced through the air before Zexion could respond. He'd stood up and fixed Demyx with a glare--not a hateful one, but one suffused with a pained urgency that caused something strange to twist in Zexion's chest. He'd never thought Axel capable of gentleness with anyone except maybe Roxas...yet it was plain that the tender emotion was directed at Demyx.

_Of course he'd feel that way for Demyx, they were teacher and student for how many years? _the more rational side of the incubus snarled. And what sort of idiot was he being, anyhow--jealous of _Axel?_

"You're not," repeated Axel. "Don't say those things, dammit, Demyx...you're not going to die, all right? You're _not. _I--I'll go to HQ, I'll tell them it's just a misunderstanding or shit--"

"You cannot," said DiZ flatly. "What will they do then? They will ask...ask what has happened. They will discover _me."_

"They have a right to know!" Axel stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at DiZ. "Dammit, you can't just _hide _this kind of shit from people forever--"

"I will reveal myself," said DiZ, giving Axel a cutting glare, "when the time is _right."  
_

"Yeah fucking right, that's just another word for _never!"_

As amusing as this little privacy debate was...it diverted them from their main point. Zexion coughed loudly; Axel and DiZ spun around in an instant to face him, Axel looking offended and DiZ unperturbed as ever.

"What? You got something to say?" snarled Axel, an aggressive challenge flashing in his eyes.

"Nothing," said Zexion, folding his arms and meeting Axel's glare. After all, he was no longer Axel's prisoner--nothing the slayer did to him now could hurt him. He had no reason to fear Axel. "Only that there is no point to this debate of yours."

"No point?" Axel looked flabbergasted. "_Excuse _me, incubus, but I think we were discussing something that _you'd _think important too, given that you're supposedly in love with little Dem-Dem or whatnot--"

Demyx stiffened and a tremor ran down Zexion's spine as well. When he spoke, he had to force his voice to stay even. "You are mistaken. I am _not _in love with Demyx, and whether I am or not is irrelevant to the point."

"You keep talking about points," groused Axel. "So? What's the _point _here? _Do _enlighten us."

Zexion shot Axel a glare of pure poison, but at the very least, the slayer was _finally _cutting to the chase. He said, addressing DiZ, "Why did you tell us about the death orders in the first place?"

"Huh? Oh--" Roxas sat a little straighter, his eyes widening. Clearly, he'd been wondering the same thing.

DiZ remained silent as a statue. Zexion took this as an invitation to continue speaking. "After all, you have already shown you have no problem with witholding information when you believe it necessary. It is not strictly necessary for your plans to tell us that three of us have death orders on our heads, now is it?"

No one spoke; the room heaved under the silence. At length, DiZ said, "Once again...it appears I have underestimated your intelligence, Ienzo."

Zexion grit his teeth, trying to suppress a burst of irritation. "That is _not _my name...and also, do not dance around my question. Why did you tell us about the death orders?"

"And don't say some shit about it being our right to know," added Axel, shooting DiZ a death glare. Zexion didn't want to admit that he appreciated _Axel's _help, of all people.

"Of course..." said DiZ; a rough, weary smile lanced across what was visible of his face. "Very well, then. The reason I informed you of the death orders is simple: it gives you no choice but to aid me."

"Huh? How the fuck is that?" demanded Axel.

Axel could be so damnably _thick_...almost like Demyx. Zexion supposed Demyx had to have gotten it from someone, though.

"The orders do not tie you down specifically, Axel," said DiZ. "But as for the rest of you...you have no other places to go. Now that you are wanted by both vampires and slayers...where will you go? Who do you have to turn to except fellow outcasts? Except _me?" _

DiZ's logic was sound, Zexion had to concede, though he didn't like its overtones of emotional blackmail. Roxas looked similarly resigned, even nodding in agreement to some portions of DiZ's speech. Axel, however, looked very much like he'd swallowed a whole lemon and Demyx was convulsing wildly. Zexion snaked his hand over and delivered Demyx's a firm squeeze. Demyx didn't respond except to go stiff, which Zexion supposed was an improvement.

"I'll help you." Roxas's voice cracked through the silence like a whip. Zexion whirled around to face him.

"Excuse me?" he asid, wondering if he'd heard right.

"I'll help," said Roxas, standing up, determination flashing in his eyes. "What do I have to lose, anyway? If it--if what I can do can stop Xemnas, then I'll be happy to join you."

"Roxas, you--" said Axel, wide-eyed and incredulous. "Listen, why would you--"

Roxas didn't meet Axel's gaze. "It's not like we have a choice, Axel. You're thinking the same thing, aren't you?"

Zexion blinked, trying not to show his surprise, when Roxas addressed him. He jerked his head in a nod. "Like it or not...after defying the Superior, and 'killing' _him_" --he didn't have to make the quote marks with his fingers; they were implied-- "what choice to I have?"

"But--" began Axel, though Zexion really didn't get why the slayer was so bothered. "But, come on, are you _serious _about this? In order to defeat Xemnas, we need the full force of the Slayer Society behind us. Not some--some _old guy _and his groupies, got it memorized?"

If DiZ was offended at being referred to as an "old guy" with "groupies", he gave no indication of it. He said, "I will not alert the Society until the time is right."

"And meanwhile, _meanwhile, _what am _I _supposed to do?" yelled Axel. The vitriol in his voice was undercut with a heavy layer of frustration. "Just--just stand here while I watch _you _send _them _to their deaths?"

He gestured wildly at Roxas and Demyx with the "them"; Zexion wasn't hurt that Axel didn't include him among the "them". After all, to Axel, he wasn't even a real person. Just an incubus, a monster, who had seduced his former student and transformed his current one. In fact, Axel had all the reason in the world to _want _him dead, whether at Xemnas's hands or a slayer's, it didn't matter.

DiZ gazed at Axel levelly, betraying no emotion. "You could always help them."

"Fuck that!" roared Axel back. "I'm not an idiot, I know a hopeless cause when I see one!"

"So you are going to be a coward," said Zexion icily, standing up. Even though the _sane _part of his mind was yelling that he was being suicidal, he still began to approach the red-haired slayer, closing the distance that yawned like a canyon between them. "You are going to be a coward and turn your back on the only people you care about--and, I'm certain, the only people who care about _you_--simply because you believe there is a chance you might be at a disadvantage in a fight."

Axel flushed red and his face began making all sorts of nasty contortions. A tiny part of Zexion shivered; he recognized the old volatility. The rage that would lead Axel to strike out, or worse...but still he didn't step back. He moved even closer, so that there was only an arms-length separating them. If Axel wanted to hit...

Zexion tensed for the blow. Let it come. He'd suffered worse.

But Axel didn't hit. Instead, he said, roughly, "_Listen _to you. 'Might be at a disadvantage'. _Might be? _How about--how about the fact that some old guy who's _supposed _to be dead plus two human slayers, a little girl, and an incubus, facing off against the combined might of the _Coven of fucking Thirteen? _What part of _completely uneven fight _have you _not _got memorized?"

Zexion's shoulder where it met the neck--where his coven symbol was etched--twinged slightly when he heard Axel's mangling of his coven name. _Not that that is my coven anymore. _

Of more interest was the fact that Axel continued to refer to Roxas as a "human slayer"...as if he didn't know what the boy had become. He couldn't use this information now, though, so filed it in the back of his mind for future reference. To Axel, he said calmly, "You ought to have a listen at _yourself. _Look at you--a powreful vampire slayer, scion to the La Monte family--running away from the same fight that children, weaklings, a dead man and an incubus have already committed themselves to. Are you not ashamed of yourself?"

"You're doing it again," hissed Axel, his eyes narrowing. "Twisting my words around--"

"And how is that? That _is _what you said, is it not?"

"No! Listen, I wasn't saying that I'm _afraid_, just saying that we oughtta think this over a bit, got it memorized?"

"And I am saying that I do not care if you fight with us or not. I would expect such a craven action, coming from you. It isn't _me _who you have to face and explain your reasons to. It is--" He gestured behind him, at Demyx and Roxas "_them."_

Axel's throat convulsed. He didn't follow Zexion's suggestion, but snarled, still facing the incubus, "I'm doing what will keep me--_and them_--alive. You can go out and commit suicide if you want to--hell, the world would be better off if you did--but this fight's got nothing to do with us--"

"I beg to differ," said Zexion, ignoring how badly Axel's slight stung. _Better off...would Demyx be better off without me? Had he never met me? _"It has nothing to do with you, that is true. But you are not the one with execution orders on your head. What else can we do, then? What else can we do but fight back?"

"Don't speak for them," said Axel, drawing back, rage hardening on his face. "_Don't. _You have no idea--_none_--what they would think, what they would want--"

"Yeah, he does." Roxas's heated voice startled Zexion; he turned and saw that the boy had stood and begun to approach Axel. "He's got a better idea than _you, _at the very least. Don't stop me, Axel. I...I see now. It's _him, _Xemnas, it's him who's done wrong. If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened..."

Well, Zexion didn't see where _that _logic had come from, but if it got Roxas on his side, who was he to protest?

"Zexy's right," said Demyx acidly; he'd stood as well and even rested his hand on Zexion's shoulder. "You can do what you always do and run away from the truth if that makes you happier. But me--me and Zexy and Roxas are going to fight. Who cares if we don't stand a chance. At the very least we'll have _done something."_

A sort of bitter venom which Zexion had never before heard from Demyx entered his words with the last sentence. The vampire shuddered slightly, even though he knew it wasn't him the venom was directed at. But still. He'd _never _heard the obliviously happy Demyx speak with such harshness, nor had he ever seen Demyx glare at anyone as fiercely as he was glaring at Axel, as if he was a victim seeing his attacker being put to death. Rage and hatred--but triumph--were etched on his normally gentle features. The hand on Zexion's shoulder squeezed, almost to the point of painfulness, but Zexion was too confused to protest.

Whatever had gotten Demyx angry...it sounded like something personal.

Axel blanched, all the red leaving his face in one fell swoop. He lurched back, his throat convulsing and lips moving soundlessly as if he wanted to explain himself. Clearly, what Demyx had said had impacted him far more than anyone else's words.

"Axel..." said DiZ quietly.

Axel didn't speak for the longest time, keeping his eyes trained on the floor and his shoulders slumped like an ashamed man. Ashamed of what, Zexion couldn't say--in part because Axel had so many things to be ashamed of. Yet he'd never owned up to any character flaws...at least until now.

"Fine!" When he spoke, the sound was as jarringly sharp as if someone had turned the radio dial too far. "_Fine! _Fine, fine, fine fucking _fine! _If you all wanna get yourselves killed be my fucking _guests! _It's nothing to do with _me. _Got it fucking memorized?"

With a final dark glare directed at all in the room, Axel whirled around and stormed out of the room, muttering expletives under his breath. Everyone watched him go, DiZ impassively as always but Roxas with a look of utter pain on his pale face.

And Demyx...Demyx stood rigid as a dead tree, his mouth set in a firm line of conviction. Zexion blinked at Demyx, startled. He'd never seen Demyx so convicted about anything, not even stepping in Xemnas's way to protect Zexion.

"Demyx.." he said, brushing his hand against Demyx. The slayer didn't follow through on the gesture and accept his hand, worrying him slightly. "Demyx...what...what could have happened..."

"It's nothing that has to do with you," said Demyx, his tone flat but layered with ice. "If that doesn't get him to help then nothing will. Come on, Zexion, let's go."

Without a word, he seized Zexion by the hand and led him out of the room.

* * *

Roxas found Axel in his room, head down, pacing back and forth and muttering expletives under his breath. He paused in the doorway, nervous--after Axel's fit in the parlor, he didn't know whether it'd be such a good idea to disturb the older slayer. After all, Axel might take it out on him...

But when Axel looked up, meeting Roxas's eyes, he didn't shout. Instead, he said, his shoulders tense, "What do you want."

"I just..." Roxas cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable. Truthfully, even he didn't know. "Just...wanted to talk, I guess..."

"Well, talk away," growled Axel.

"Axel..." said Roxas helplessly. "You're not going to help us...?"

"No," said Axel. "I'm not going to help you all commit suicide."

"It's not _suicide, _Axel," protested Roxas. "Listen, you want to fight Xemnas too--"

"Roxas, stop it," said Axel, his voice suddenly firm. "I know why you're really saying these things."

"Do you now?" said Roxas, a little more sharply than he usually would have with Axel. But still--he was _frustrated. _Frustrated by how stubborn Axel was, and worse, by how Axel kept treating Roxas's resolve as a game. He'd always had the feeling that Axel didn't take him seriously, and now the feeling had been augmented.

_It isn't a game or anything. I really do want to defeat Xemnas. What he did--what he's doing--is wrong. And he could hurt you too, Axel..._

"It's _him," _said Axel, his mouth twitching as if he'd smelled something unpleasant. "The fucking little vampire. He's _making _you say those things, isn't he--"

"He isn't doing _anything!" _yelled Roxas. "You don't get it. I really do want to fight Xemnas. All I'm asking is for your help, Axel."

"Help! Help in what, letting you _die? _I'm telling you, Roxas, the best thing to do is to get the hell away from here, fast as possible, and forget all this happened! _All _of this!"

"Forget?" Roxas clenched his hand into a fist, driving his claws into the pale skin and ignoring the pinpricks of pain as cold blood began to trickle out. "Axel, _I can't forget. _I'm--I'm a vampire now, I--"

It was the first time he'd ever admitted it. Strangely, it only hurt a little bit, a tiny pain like a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. Otherwise, he felt nothing but an icy sense of resolve. So he was a vampire now. It didn't matter. That didn't change the fact that he was Roxas--Hayner, Pence, and Olette's Roxas, Axel's Roxas, Zexion's Roxas, all in one. And that didn't change the fact that he wanted to keep Xemnas from hurting any more of his friends.

"No! You're not a vampire, goddammit--" Axel stepped closer to him, anger twisting his face. But it wasn't anger at Roxas; it was anger to cover up pain. "Don't say that kind of shit!"

"_Yes I am!" _shouted Roxas, tightening his fist to the point of painfulness. "You don't get it, Axel. I'm a vampire now. So what? At least--at least I can fight for myself! I've already made my decision. Now make yours."

He glared at Axel, his chin up and arms folded. Waiting defiantly for Axel's response. He didn't expect much--maybe for Axel to start cursing and shouting again, he didn't know.

Instead, Axel said, his voice heavy, "Listen...Roxas...I think you should know why I don't want you to fight."

Roxas almost said, _Because you're a coward? _He held his tongue, though, and waited silently for Axel to continue speaking.

"It's because...because I...ah, hell..." Roxas was sure he'd never seen Axel so hesitant--not even that time when he'd "killed" the older slayer. Except that time, Axel hadn't _really _been hesitant. Maybe strangely quiet and subdued, but there'd been such certaintly glimmering in his eyes that time. This time, though, he kept his gaze averted, his hands trembling like he didn't know what to do with them.

"Because--because--listen, I--it's because I think--I am--I don't--I mean--" Axel cleared his throat loudly and looked up.

Roxas staggered back, shocked by the intent blazing in Axel's eyes like fire beyond smoked glass. Suddenly all the hesitancy had left the slayer's face, to be replaced by a thin-lipped resolve. Axel approached him, his eyes cutting through Roxas's soul like twin daggers.

Roxas was painfully aware of a sudden heaviness in the air, of a change in Axel's scent--a strange cleanness that came from a lessening of the usual smoke smell that clung so persistently to the slayer. He didn't know what to make of it. Above all, he was aware of a sensation that was lacking: his heart _should _have been pounding a mile a minute, instead of remaining frozen, undead, deep in his chest.

"Roxas, it's because...because..." To his surprise, Axel wrapped his hands around Roxas's, drawing him closer. Axel's grip was surprisingly strong and warm, and it took all of Roxas's self-control to keep himself from pulling away. "Because...I love you."

_I love you._

The words rang senselessly in Roxas's ears. He felt as if the ground had been torn away from under him and only Axel's grip was keeping him aloft. He stared into Axel's face, studying the lean, impish features with which he'd become so familiar. Studying the green eyes sparkling with such seriousness, the dark markings beneath those eyes, the strange pallor that had fallen over Axel's face; it didn't suit him at all.

But of course Axel would be afraid--afraid of rejection. It was only natural...

"I love you, Roxas," repeated Axel, tightening his grip on Roxas's hands as if he feared Roxas would pull away. "That's why--that's why I don't want you to fight. To just throw your life away like that. Don't you understand? I've already--already lost so much. Demyx...my mother and father...I don't want to lose anyone else to a vampire..."

"Axel..." said Roxas when he managed to unstick his throat. His words escaped in a whistling whisper. "_You _don't understand. If--if we beat Xemnas, then we'll have crippled a good thirteen covens, won't we have? Then--then there won't be as many vampires left to hurt people."

_Like how they took Hayner, Pence, and Olette from me..._

Axel just gave a sad laugh and shook his head. "Maybe that's so, Roxas...but look, just _think _about the chances...and oh, fuck, why am I even talking about this? That's...that's not what's important."

He lifted a hand and rested it on the side of Roxas's face; Roxas shivered, startled by how warm Axel's touch was. Axel smiled sadly at him as he spoke. "What's important is that...that you're here. You're here right now and you're with me and that's all that matters."

"You don't...you don't...I mean..." stammered Roxas, disbelief welling in his stomach--but mingled with something else, an emotion he couldn't identify for an instant. "It doesn't matter to you...that I'm a vampire?"

Axel laughed again, with even less humor than before. "Of _course _not. Vampire or no--you're still just Roxas to me."

Only when Axel bent down to plant a kiss on his forehead, drawing Roxas close to him so that all Roxas felt was Axel's warm and peppery presence, comforting him in a strange way because it was so familiar, did he realize what that undentifiable emotion was:

_Joy._

Emboldened, he threw his arms around Axel's neck, and pulled himself even closer to the man he loved.

* * *

Gross...now that I think on it, the reason the scene doesn't work out that well is because I don't like AkuRoku. All right, I accept that it's pretty much canon, but I dislike both parties involved. Axel's a jerkass and Roxas is an idiot (sorry Axel and Roxas fans...). Thankfully, the story is nearing its end so there won't be that many AkuRoku scenes left...whew.

The next chapter, "Immortal", is one of my absolute favorites and a definite high note when compared to this rather slow chapter. In it, we not only get a Demyx and Zexion lover's spat (always fun...), but we finally get Zexion's entire backstory, which I have been hinting at obliquely throughout the story. In particular, take a look at chapter ten for hints...since it will probably take me a while (as usual) to get the chapter actually up.

Here's a longer-than-usual preview to whet your interest:

_It was small, metal, and rectangular--a locket. Made of gold that gleamed dully in the dying light.. Demyx flipped open the delicately-engraved cover with an easy motion, to see that the locket held a picture inside. A small black-and-white photograph that was rather blurry with age; still, Demyx could make out the person depicted in the picture. He stared in the solemn dark eyes of a young man--no, a boy, not even as old as he was--with medium-toned hair that framed an angelically-delicate pale face. The boy wore a hat pulled low, and his starched collar and bow tie, and curve of his lapels were barely visible in the image. From the apparent age of the photograph and the way the boy was dressed, Demyx supposed that the picture had been taken around the turn of the last century. Yet there was something strangely familiar about the boy, something that niggled in the back of his mind..._

"Immortal" will also contain the last major revelation in the story, so you can all breathe easy now.

Meanwhile, while waiting for me to update, be sure to send reviews. Every review lights up my heart just a little more.


	23. Immortal

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_23. Immortal_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Holy _update, _Batman!

Yes, this is proof that I have not in fact died. However, I can't promise any more updates soon because school has started and brought with it the predictable onslaught of homework. All the same, the story is on its home stretch and I can promise that I will definitely finish it, since I have a pretty good idea where I want to go from here on out.

This chapter focuses more on Zexion's backstory, and yes, contains that wonderful lover's spat. I'm very fond of it because it turned out almost exactly as I'd envisioned it, if not even better--I hadn't planned for the argument to be as vitriolic as it ended up being, and I'm glad it turned out that way. But enough babbling--see (or is it read?) for yourselves.

* * *

Later that afternoon, as the sunset cast blood-red, substanceless beams through the manor windows, Demyx found Zexion in the library.

The incubus was perched on the edge of a table surrounded by a wall of bookshelves, ignoring the chairs neatly tucked under the table. Several heavy books were arranged in neat stacks on the table, their dull leather bindings scuffed and faded with age. A few lay open, yellowing pages fluttering gently in the faint breeze from the air conditioner.

Zexion wasn't reading, however. He'd drawn his knees to his chest and was gazing at something small in his hand, his head lowered so Demyx couldn't see his gaze. Nor could he see what it was Zexion was looking at...but he had the strange feeling that he'd intruded into something private. He almost made to walk away and go about his business--it was about dinner time, anyway, but Zexion's voice, quiet as a winter breeze, snapped through the silence:

"Demyx."

It was all Demyx could do to keep himself from jumping up in surprise. Nervously, he crept out from behind the bookshelf and started walking over to the silent vampire, his heart thudding thoug he didn't know why. But again, there was the feeling of intrusion...

"Er, yeah?" he said, drawing himself up a seat beside Zexion. Zexion shifted so Demyx couldn't see whatever it was he held in his hand.

"Why did you come here?" said Zexion, not looking at him. "Do you have any news on Axel?"

"Huh? Oh...um, no," said Demyx. And this was the truth--ever since that morning he'd heard nothing from Axel. It seemed Axel had locked himself in his room and was pacing around muttering, which really wasn't odd behavior coming from _Axel. _Roxas had been laying low, too; Demyx could only assume that Axel was still sticking to his stubborn position of not giving them help because he thought they were just trying to commit suicide.

_Which isn't entirely far off, you know, _that sardonic voice in his head said. He quickly shoved it aside.

"Disappointing," sighed Zexion, shaking his head. "I assume, then, that he still refuses to help us."

"He's got a bit of a point, you know," said Demyx. "I mean--there are only four of us, and I mean, you're smart enough to know that we don't stand much of a chance against the entire Coven of Thirteen."

"I know that more than anyone," said Zexion with a hollow little laugh, tugging at the collar of his shirt--near where the symbol of his coven was etched, Demyx remembered.

"Then why?" he said. "Why do you wanna fight Xemnas, if you know there isn't--I mean--if you know we're outmatched?"

"Because...I don't know." Zexion gazed distantly at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on the table. "Perhaps it's because...I want to do something reckless."

"Reckless?"

"Yes. I...you do not understand. I have been--my entire life--_protected. _Always. First by others, then by myself. I was never willing to do anything that held the slightest taint of danger to it. Seeking out targets who could not fight back...scampering every time a fight might have broken out. And even before I became a vampire, I was being coddled, hidden from the world--"

_Hold on. _Something Zexion had said captured Demyx's attention, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle--but he couldn't place it, not exactly.

"So you see...this time...I feel like...it is idiotic, I know, but I want to be able to do something dangerous. For the first time in all the years that I have existed. I want to do something big and grand and daring and utterly insane."

Demyx wasn't really paying attention--he was sifting through Zexion's earlier words, trying to pinpoint what had troubled him so much. _Something...there was something he said..._

He caught it in a flash.

"Before..." he said quietly; Zexion blinked at him, looking bored. "Before you became a _vampire?"_

"Ah. Did I say that?" said Zexion in an infuriatingly casual tone, turning to the side so that Demyx could only see the side of his face hidden by his fringe. "My, my, slips of tongue are very troublesome..."

"Cut the crap, Zexion!" yelled Demyx, standing up so he could loom above the incubus. "Answer my question--you said something about before you became a vampire?"

"Yes, I believe I did," said Zexion loftily, examining his claws. "What of it?"

"Hey, don't dance around it!" said Demyx. "What do you mean by that? I thought you're a pureblood vampire..."

Zexion gave Demyx a look that could only be described as helpless. "I am."

"Then what's this about before you were a vampire?" said Demyx. "Seems to me that you were once human...but that can't be possible. You're definitely not a _made _vampire..."

Dimly, Demyx sensed yet another upcoming revelation. He didn't know whether he welcomed it or dreaded it.

"No, I am not," said Zexion. The irritated quality had slipped out of his voice, however, to be replaced by something--hesitant? He continued to keep his eyes averted from Demyx. "Listen...this...this is something you are not supposed to know."

A wave of irritation lanced through Demyx, though he forced it down. How many times in the past few days had he been told that? "Look, I already know more about vampires and slayers than any human slayer already. What would it hurt for me to find out a little bit more?"

"I suppose..." sighed Zexion. "I...I do not know...I mean...that is to say...I have told this story to no one. Not even to the Superior."

He sounded so hesitant, so _scared, _almost, that Demyx wanted to throw his arms around Zexion and pull him in an embrace and reassure him that everything would be all right. Yet the sympathy was tempered by something else--something closer to triumph. It was strange to feel that way, he knew, but at the same time...Zexion was going to confide in him something he'd never told anyone. Demyx had long clung to the belief that he was someone special to Zexion, but this was just about confirmation. If Zexion trusted him enough...

_Don't be stupid, it's because he slipped up so he now has to explain, _thought the nasty voice. Demyx once again had to tell it to shut the hell up. He wondered why the hell it had come back when it hadn't been troubling him for so long.

"First...I suppose I ought to show you this," said Zexion.

"Huh? What?" said Demyx as Zexion extended his hand. The slayer closed the distance between them, leaning over Zexion's outstretched hand to pick up the small object the vampire held. He shivered involuntarily as he scraped his fingers against the cool smooth skin of Zexion's palm--to touch Zexion was still an unsettling experience to him, even though he'd done it so often. He lifted the object in the air to better examine it, spurred on by Zexion nodding.

It was small, metal, and rectangular--a locket. Made of gold that gleamed dully in the dying light.. Demyx flipped open the delicately-engraved cover with an easy motion, to see that the locket held a picture inside. A small black-and-white photograph that was rather blurry with age; still, Demyx could make out the person depicted in the picture. He stared in the solemn dark eyes of a young man--no, a _boy_, not even as old as he was--with medium-toned hair that framed an angelically-delicate pale face. The boy wore a hat pulled low, and his starched collar and bow tie, and curve of his lapels were barely visible in the image. From the apparent age of the photograph and the way the boy was dressed, Demyx supposed that the picture had been taken around the turn of the last century. Yet there was something strangely familiar about the boy, something that niggled in the back of his mind...

He looked up, meeting Zexion's eyes--eyes as dark and serious as those of the boy in the picture--and realized.

"It's you," he said.

Zexion jerked his head in a nod.

"But..." Demyx forwned as he gazed at the image. "But there's something...different..." It wasn't just the hair and clothes, either. Somehow, even though the teenage boy in the picture looked around the same age that Zexion was physically, he still seemed a little...younger. It was his eyes. They were wider, more curious, lacking the weary and embittered light that currently danced in Zexion's eyes. His cheeks seemed fuller, and his solemnly frowning mouth betrayed no hint of fangs...

"Hold on," said Demyx. "You're not a vampire in this picture..."

"I am not," agreed Zexion. "This was taken approximately a year before I became a vampire."

"But...can you...I don't _get _it..." groaned Demyx. He felt tired, not just of not getting things, but also of saying those self-same words too often.

"I was born perfectly human, in the year 1896. Seventh and youngest son of a wealthy old-money family in France," said Zexion, his tone soft but carrying the familiar lilt of a lecture. "My family had fallen onto hard times, as they had squandered much of the fortune they'd amassed in years past...when I was fourteen, unable to support their opulent lifestyle any longer, they sent me away. To the home of a countryman, an old family friend, who had managed his fortune more carefully than my family had.

"He was a much older man than me, much more refined and learned than any man I had known before," Zexion continued. "I did not know his name...I simply addressed him as 'Monsieur'. Aside from a few servants, we were the only residents of the manor. It was large and imposing, far larger than the modest country home in which I'd grown up, and I spent my days exploring it. I was particularly drawn to its library. It was...ahh...you probably wouldn't understand." He smiled wryly at Demyx; Demyx stiffened, hearing an insult.

"You liked it," he said, the words coming slow from a tongue that felt heavy and paralyzed, through a head that felt stuffed with cotton. "Is that it? The library..."

"Yes." A smile ghosted across Zexion's face. "I had never encountered a library so large before. To a naive child like me, it seemed to contain every book in the universe. I'd spend days in it, climbing ladders to reach the best books on the top shelves, forgetting to take meals even in my eagerness to absorb every word in every book. Over time, my master noticed. He began to take charge of my education, tutoring me personally.

"He was...a kind man. Any books or clothes or food I wanted--books, mostly--he gave me." Zexion was smiling again, a strange, wistful little half-smile that made him seem years longer. Seeing that smile caused a strange longing to ache in Demyx's chest; he wished he could sympathize with that emotion, but couldn't. "He never raised his hand against me--never raised his voice, either. He trained me into the subtleties and nuances of being a proper French gentleman. I couldn't have asked for a more ideal life.

"I didn't question my life. Why should I? On the outside, it was perfect. I was never in danger because my master's manor was so remote. I had my books and I had my kind master. I was so...so naive and coddled. So idiotic." He shook his head, his smile acquiring a bitter--and more famliar--quality. Demyx breathed easier. "I didn't think to suspect anything odd about my master, either. Such as how he never left his manor...how uncannily pale he was, and how he preferred to keep to the shadows and darkness, and never went out at all when the sun was up..."

Demyx's heart began pounding faster. "Your master...he was a vampire."

"My, you caught on to that quickly," said Zexion.

"Hey," said Demyx, catching on to the insult. "I'm not as dumb as you think I am."

"Of course--of course you aren't," said Zexion, though his smirk didn't abate. "Much more astute, in any event, than I was back then. I knew about vampires, of course, but didn't think they had anything to do with my life. To this day, I still don't know why my master took me in in the first place...I believe it at first was beacuse of a bizarre, very obscure French custom from medieval ages; something to do with keeping a human in the household for many years, practically raising him...I don't know, it was thought it made the human all the more sweeter for consumption."

Demyx shivered, thinking that it sounded more like an excuse for pedophilia himself.

"I do believe that he truly did come to care for me, otherwise he would never have done that for me..." said Zexion with a sigh. "But I am getting ahead of myself here... For three years, I lived in a world of peace and luxury, my own safe little bubble where the troubles of the outside world would never reach me. Or at least...I thought they would not. But I thought wrong.

"On June 28th, 1914, an event shattered the shallow peace of all of Europe." Zexion met Demyx's eyes, a knowing light dancing across his own eyes, though Demyx couldn't fathom why. "I speak, of course, of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand."

"Franz Ferdinand?" said Demyx cluelessly, thinking of a band. But that couldn't be...

"Yes, the Archduke of Austria," said Zexion, sounding impatient like "why didn't you listen the first time?" Demyx only became even more confused. "Within weeks, what you know as World War I broke out. We called it the 'Great War', then, having never before seen a war of that magnitude and devastation. For the first time, my master and I paid attention to current events, following the tide of the war with horrified fascination.

"My master knew it before I did--the war would spell the end of our peaceful, closed-off existence. As the German army spilled deeper into French borders, my master grew more and more nervous. He worried most about me--I was a young man about the right age for conscription, which is no doubt what the French army would have done to me. He feared the Germans would do worse to me...to him, you must understand, I was the ideal of beauty and purity." Zexion laughed roughly, the sound sending knives crawling under Demyx's skin. "And I was of a sickly constitution. He feared seeing me on the battlefield, or violated as a prisoner of war...

"So he...he did what he thought was the only natural thing. One day, as the German army was only days away, my master took me aside and he...he..."

Zexion had brought a hand to the hollow where his shoulder met his neck and was unconsciously massaging the skin, as if trying to alleviate the pain of an old wound. He paused, taking an inordinately long time to begin speaking again. He seemed at once nervous, excited, and--afraid? Afraid of what? Demyx's disapproval?

"Zexy--" he began, stepping forward to comfort the vampire. Zexion sidestepped him, however, and cleared his throat, continuing his story with only the slightest waver in his voice.

"He...he bit me." He tightened his fingers around the material of his shirt, piercing it with his claws. "Right here. You cannot see the bite now--it is hidden by my coven symbol. I was not--I was not prepared for what happened. For two days, I spent in agony as my body transformed into that of a vampire. When it was over, I was no longer the naive noble boy I had been before, but...but this." He smiled bitterly and gestured at himself. "The incubus Ienzo."

"Huh? What?" Demyx's head had begun spinning again. He felt like Zexion had omitted something crucial in his story... "But I don't geddit..."

"That is not a surprise," said Zexion calmly.

"What! Hey--no--I mean--" sputtered Demyx. "I mean, how can--if a pureblood bites a human, he turns into a vampire, right? But a _made _vampire."

"That is correct." Zexion looked irritated, but there was something else in his eyes--a nervous anticipation. Demyx couldn't understand why, but it made him tremble inside. Almost as if Zexion wanted to tell him the truth, but was afraid Demyx wouldn't like it...

"B-but--" Demyx continued sputtering. "But you're _not _made. Definitely not. You're an _incubus, _dammit, who ever heard of a made incubus--"

Zexion held up a hand, indicating Demyx to shut up. Demyx did so gladly. "It was...in my case...it was different. Something...I do believe it is in the power of every pureblood vampire, but used rarely. And for understandable reasons...the covens do not look kindly on those who increase their ranks through artificial means..."

"_What?" _Demyx's pent-up confusion exploded over. "Quit dancing around the question, dammit! I want to know _how! _So cut the crap and _tell me."_

Was it just his imagination, or did Zexion blanch even paler than his usual shade at his words? Sympathy began spiking in Demyx's stomach, and he had half a mind to apologize for shouting, but Zexion spoke before he could.

"It...ahh...it is something...something called..." Zexion was staring to the side, twisting his fingers together as if he was nervous. "Something called...the 'gift of the immortal'. It is a special--special something a pureblood vampire can administer only once in his life. A bite that transforms a human not into a made brute, but into a fellow pureblood...gifted with all of a pureblood's intellect and powers."

He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head to clear the hair from his eyes. "Granted, it...it does not produce very high-ranking purebloods...I only became an incubus. Ironic, considering how my master considered me the embodiment of purity..." A pained smirk that looked more like a grimace. "And it leaves the pureblood in question severely weakened for several days...what did in my master in the end. I escaped, and he stayed behind to guard the manor. I can only assume he was staked and burned by the German army..."

Demyx barely had any ears for Zexion now. His heart was pounding, words echoing senselessly in his head: _The gift of the immortal... a bite that transorms a human into a fellow pureblood..._

"Zexy...this...this 'gift of the immortal'..." he croaked.

"Ah. Yes. That," said Zexion in a brisk manner that strangely reminded Demyx of a lecturing professor. "It...like I said earlier...it is rarely used, and does not have a particularly high success rate...the gift works best on individuals with already...already vampiric predilections. Who have either been exposed to vampires before--as I was, every day--or are darker and more independent in personality..."

Demyx stood listening to Zexion's words, at first uncomprehending, yet feeling a terrible drawing beginning to creep into the edges of his consciousness, looming like the first thin red band of dawn over the horizon, the first swell of a tsunami. His hands began to shake, his blood running cold.

"Zexion..." he said quietly. "You want to...you want to...to give _me _the gift."

Zexion nodded stiffly, his expression drawn. "If...if you would permit me."

Demyx turned away from the table, throwing his hands in the air and pacing up and down the library's shiny wooden floorboards, his steps echoing in time to the slamming of his heart. His mind felt like a wild mess of swirling emotions, none of them positive.

"You--you can't be _serious, _Zexion, I mean, what the hell _is _this--"

Zexion's gaze remained level, his face closed as a blank white wall. "I have given this much thought, Demyx. Don't think I am just throwing it out randomly."

"But why--_why? _Why would you wanna turn me into a vampire?" Demyx whirled around, facing Zexion accusingly; Zexion remained silent and emotionless. "That's--what kind shit is _that?"  
_

"It struck me as...logical," said Zexion slowly, emphasizing each syllable with careful precision. "I...I cannot say what it is I feel about you, except that it is _wrong."_

"Wrong?" To his shame, his voice cracked on the word.

"Yes," said Zexion, his words coming quicker now. "But it would not be wrong if you were also a vampire. Many vampires take mates for life, we would be no different--"

"Zexion..." Demyx struggled to speak through his rapidly-closing throat; he felt as if his chest was being squeezed with steel bands. "You can't be serious. Me--be a _vampire?"_

"Yes." Zexion was beginning to sound irritated. "Think about it, Demyx. It would be better--for the both of us. Our relationship would be a legitimate one, and you would be much stronger and faster than you are now. You would not be in as much danger during a fight. And you'd be immortal. Come, what could be so wrong about that?"

"What's wrong about that? What's _wrong?" _Demyx's voice rose with his hysteria. He leaned close to Zexion, jabbing the incubus in the face with a shaking finger. "I'll tell you what's wrong about that--how 'bout the fact that I'd be a _bloodsucking monster?"_

Real anger flashed across Zexion's eyes. "How many times have I told you to consider it from my perspective? The idea of vampires being monsters is a human construct. We must feed to survive, and if it's human blood we need for sustenance, then it's only logical--"

"_Logical." _Demyx hissed the word as a curse. "Listen, Zexion, maybe you don't understand this: _I like being human."_

"Why?" Zexion's lip curled in a snarl. "Why would you _enjoy _being a weak sack of mortal flesh and mortal bone? Look at you--you die like flies! Anything--just the slightest tap too hard--is enough to kill you! You're a lot of scampering swine, concerned only with killing each other whether through war or disease, it doesn't matter. How is there even a choice between _that _and being immortal?"

"Axel's right," said Demyx feverishly, balling his hands into fists. "You _don't _think things through. You think you're so smart but you're always miscalculating, always misjudging because you're so damn stuck on yourself--"

"Excuse me?" Zexion spat what should have been a polite protest in as vitriolic a tone as he would a swear word. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You haven't thought about the _price _of your immortality," said Demyx, barely able to speak through his anger. "You have to drink people's blood--_kill people_--to live. What if I don't want that?"

"You're an idiot," said Zexion, his face becoming blotchy red and his voice lowering into a hiss. "You kill animals and eat them to survive--how is that different for _us? _Why would you even want to be one of the stupid seething multitude you call humanity? Believe me, the instant you turn, you'll wonder what you ever thought was so great about being human in the first place."

Demyx had never wanted to throttle Zexion more than he did at the moment. He had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep himself from following through on the urge. It was all he could to keep himself from spitting into Zexion's stupid, smarmy vampire face.

"You don't understand," he snarled. "I don't _want _to be immortal. Maybe you don't get it, 'cause your immortality makes you all high and mighty or something, but you can't see that life is wonderful _because _it's brief. How--how easy it is to take away. You call that a weakness, and sure, we don't like it either. But it makes us value the days we have left even more."

As he spoke, he straightened and spoke with more and more conviction. He was _sure _of what he was saying, absolutely sure it was true. Maybe he couldn't back it up with elaborate theories like Zexion could, but he _knew _it was true in that deep place in the marrow of his bones. He thought about his parents' dead bodies curled on the tenement floor, about the half-made Roxas, about the wild exhilaration he felt every time he fought, knowing that it might be his last fight...

"You don't value life. You can throw it away easy as one two three because who gives a shit, _you _live forever. You don't know what passion and art and music are," continued Demyx. "Why should it matter if you put your emotions on a canvas or into notes so that your children and grandchildren can understand--_you _life forever. Hell, you don't even value love. You didn't even know what love was before you met me, did you? Why should it matter if you _love _anyone when you live forever? That's part of love. Knowing it can walk away from you forever if you don't seize on to it quick enough. But you don't know what 'quick enough' is, because _you _live forever."

He had no idea what he was saying anymore, yet it made the deepest sort of sense to him. All he had to do was think about Axel, about all the missed opportunities and the pain and that one night, their first and last and best--

"I think you're the one who misunderstands," said Zexion in a heated whisper. "Even you humans agree the best love is the eternal kind. If you are a vampire, then you can--you can love eternally. You will never have to fear me leaving, and vice versa."

"That's not love," spat Demyx. "That's _obsession."  
_

"What are you saying?" snapped Zexion, his tone becoming accusing. "You selfish bastard, what are you _saying? _Are you saying that you _want _to grow old and wither away and die? And leave me alone? Are you saying that you're happy with that, that you'd gladly do it? For talking about the brevity of human life, you haven't given much thought to what will happen after you die, have you?"

"What...Zexy..." Demyx felt suddenly frozen, his chest cold as if an icy hand was clutching his heart, but his face still burned with the remnants of rage.

"You haven't thought of it," said Zexion, smiling cruelly. "That is fine by me, then. Clearly you don't love me as much as you claim you do."

"Zexy! That's--that's a low blow and you know it!" Demyx protested, but already he knew nothing he could say would displace the horrible, implacable cruelty etched into the lines of Zexion's face, into his twitching smirk.

"I do not care how 'low' it is--it is _true. _You will grow old. You will become middle-aged, and gray-haired, and wrinkled. And I will stay as young as I have been for the past ninety years. You are lying to yourself if you say you will not tire of me."

"Zexion...I..." said Demyx weakly, his hands shaking. Truthfully...he _hadn't _thought of it. He'd never thought about the future with Zexion in part because that future was so uncertain. It seemed every day there was a new danger, another obstacle that threatened to tear them apart. And it wasn't as if he was accustomed of thinking about spending a long life with the one he loved, seeing as the closest he'd ever come to real romance before this was with Axel...and he knew how _that _had gone.

It wasn't fair, he thought bitterly. A human couple could take for granted that they'd live together for the rest of their lives--but Demyx couldn't, not with Zexion. Everything Zexion said was _true. _Demyx would grow old and die and Zexion would stay young and beautiful and immortal.

In that case, the solution really _was _logical--a sick, fucked-up kind of logic, true, but still _logical. _Zexion couldn't change his vampiric nature...so the only thing possible was for Demyx to change his human nature.

But he couldn't. _Couldn't. _He might have loved Zexion, but...but he wasn't ready to throw away his humanity to become a vampire. To become a creature he hated. He'd lived twelve years as a slayer and he'd witnessed the horrible actions vampires did--the deaths of Roxas's friends, Xemnas's callous cruelty, even the deaths of his own parents...how could he throw away all his training as a vampire slayer to become what he detested most?

And there was no guarantee it'd work, either. He voiced this thought to Zexion. "Listen...even if I--even if I _wanted _to, which I don't--who's to say it would work for me? You said it doesn't have a high success rate."

"It should work for you," said Zexion icily. "You are close to the world of vampires--"

"I'm a _slayer," _protested Demyx.

"You are in love with a vampire," said Zexion, his voice quiet and serious, casting Demyx a pointed glare. "Or so you say."

_Or so you say. _The words sliced at Demyx's heart; he knew exactly what Zexion meant. And he wanted to defend himself. "I _do _love you, Zexion. I do. It's just that I--I don't--I'm not ready to give up my humanity."

"You're an idiot," said Zexion, glaring accusingly at Demyx. Demyx really shouldn't have been affected, since Zexion had called him an idiot countless times before, but this time actually _hurt _him, wrenching at his heart like a knife. Because the insult this time wasn't a careless, throwaway taunt; it was laden with a hurt more bitter than quinine. Zexion truly thought that by wanting to stay human, Demyx was betraying him.

"I...I'm sorry, Zexy," he stammered, well aware of how weak and worthless the apology was. But he couldn't think of anything else to say, anything that would bridge the gaping canyon of misgivings and visceral emotions between them.

"Shut up," hissed Zexion, his face paling. "Don't apologize, you idiot, when it's clear you don't mean it."

"Zexion..." began Demyx, though he had no idea what he was going to say. Zexion, however, slid off the edge of the desk with the easy grace Demyx had come to expect, landing on the floor and turning away from Demyx. "Zexion, listen, I..."

"_Shut up," _said Zexion again, looking up and glaring at Demyx--the slayer stumbled back, his heart freezing, as he saw the pain and rage burning beneath the surface of Zexion's exposed dark blue eye. "I want _nothing _to do with a selfish coward like you."

With one last vindictive glare, he turned and strode away from Demyx, deeper into the library, his shirttails flapping behind him like mocking flags. Demyx stood stunned and glued to the spot, his face hot with shame and fury and sorrow. He wanted to move but couldn't, not just because his muscles were frozen, but because...

Because he told himself that if he didn't move, everything would stay the same. Nothing would have changed, nothing would have turned for the worst, between him and Zexion. The earth would have stood still.

* * *

When he saw the mug of warm blood resting on the bedstand in his room, Zexion immediately snatched it so hard he sloshed half of it out, and then flushed the other half down the toilet. He knew he'd regret it, and his stomach was already giving pangs of hunger at smelling the hot, coppery blood, but his more fierce and vindictive side was blinding him to reason. He just wanted to do something--_something_--to repudiate the entire rotting and hypocritical world of humanity Demyx stood for. Getting rid of the stale food from the blood bank seemed as good a start as any.

His task accomplished, he flung himself to the bed, glaring at the ceiling. He was too angry to rest, though, and anyway night was falling so by all means he should be awake. He stood up and began pacing, arms folded and head down, occasionally stopping to drive his fist into the wall. Usually, he wan't given to such violent tendencies, but it felt good to vent the rage he'd been left with after he'd stormed away from Demyx.

That complete _idiot. _What a hypocrite, what a fool. Exactly like any other human. Zexion really shouldn't have been expecting anything more, but still, beyond all reason, he'd held on to the hope that Demyx was different. That _he _could see both sides. After all, it took an extraordinary kind of human to cradle a vampire in his arms, and whisper with such confidence, "_I love you..."_

But that was not to be. Demyx had turned out as irrational and prejudiced as any human. Stupid of Zexion, thinking that Demyx could ever be something more. He slid down against the wall, burying his face in his arms and shaking with pained gasps--not quite sobs, he wouldn't descend to that point.

What an idiot he'd been. Thinking that Demyx would want to stay with him forever...of course he'd wouldn't. He'd become tired eventually of a lover who stayed perpetually a teenager in body, a lover who was too clingy, too--what was the word Demyx used?--_obsessed._

_Obsession and love, what's the difference, anyhow? _he thought bitterly. _If I'm protecting him either way, what does it matter?_

A few rooms down, he could hear Axel pacing and muttering like the demented idiot he was. Zexion had been listening to Axel's sulking for the better part of half an hour, ever since he'd entered the room. At first, he'd heard Axel and Roxas talking together--it sounded like they were arguing about, go figure, Axel rendering them any help. Zexion had to admire the boy for even trying, since it was clear that nothing would persuade Axel.

Still...the slayer's constant grumblings and cursing were beginning to grate on Zexion's nerves. If the man wasn't going to help them, would it kill him to be _quiet _about it? He was such a self-righteous whiner; Zexion could see where Demyx got it from.

He dug his claws into his temple so hard he drew blood, but didn't care--all he wanted was for the sounds of Axel's continued muttering to _stop _so he could focus on his own thoughts instead of "Goddamn fucking suicidal idiots, goddamn vampire, brainwashing them all, hope he rots in hell--"

Nice man, that Axel.

Finally, Zexion decided he could take no more. He surged to his feet, prepared to storm out of his room and march down the hall and throw Axel's door open and start yelling at the slayer to shut the hell up if he wasn't going to make himself useful. As he made his way to the door, though, an idea rose in his head, borne on by Axel grumbling, "Fucking incubus, he had to have seduced them all, Axel and Roxas and fuck, I bet the old man too, little whore--"

He stopped in place, something akin to cold triumph surging through his veins.

It couldn't...what were the chances...what if it failed...but if it worked...

Slowly, the rising triumph began to displace his anger and upset over the argument with Demyx. He straightened, a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. True, both Axel and Demyx seemed to think him as a poor planner who only thought about what benefited himself without considering the repercussions, but this..._this_...even _they _would have to admit it was a good plan. He realized he might have finally found a solution for the quandary that had been plaguing them for the past two days, ever since DiZ had offered them the choice of fighting his war for him.

The answer was plain as day--one acceptable to all parties involved. It might not have been answer that Axel would like, and it definitely wasn't the one DiZ would like, but that didn't matter, did it? At the very least, if they had even the semblance of brains, there was no way either of them could very well _protest _it.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Zexion threw open the door and stepped into the hall.

* * *

Yay, cliffhangers galore!

Anyway, about the argument scene: I'm very glad it ended up the way it did becuse quite honestly, in the original plan, the scene would have been very Twilight-esque--Demyx wanting to be turned, Zexion refusing. I switched the roles around not just because I want as little to do with Twilight as possible, but because it made more sense to me, and was more fitting with either of their characters. Zexion would pick the option more "logical" to him, while Demyx would be more conscientious. I'm betting we can all agree the argument turned out all the more better for that.

Anyway, the next chapter, "Faith", features a Zemyx sex scene! Though not until the very end...so I haven't written it yet. It will be the last sex scene in the story, if my current planning holds out, so you have that to look forward to. Meanwhile, here's the preview:

_Shit, _

_a tiny part of him thought, worried that what had happened last time was repeating itself--namely, that Axel had taken irrevocable control of the encounter--but he only had to look up and into Axel's eyes to see that it wasn't true. There was none of the cold, icy intention there'd been last time, hardening Axel's eyes like frozen emeralds; instead, their green surfaces were clouded like mist shrouding a forest, ablaze with unabashed, animalistic lust. Zexion allowed himself to breathe easier, content that he still had Axel under his control. Once he removed the thinking part of the slayer's mind, he had nothing to fear--the visceral part of Axel's self was all too easy to manipulate, as he'd learned to his great joy that time in the study when he'd called Axel out on the man's truly monstrous nature._

We're nearing the end--only seven chapters (plus an epilogue) to go! Keep on encouraging me with your wonderful reviews.


	24. Faith

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_24. Faith_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, YAOI, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, GRAPHIC SCENES, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Another update! Joy and hallelujah.

Not much plot-wise happens in this chapter, but it's an important character chapter...and a smutty one as well. XD I think this is actually my favorite smutty scene I've ever written for this story. Even though I did sort of run out of steam at the end. Anyway, enjoy this because it's going to be the last sex scene ever in the story.

And it's long too, which means there's more goodness to enjoy until my next sporadic update.

* * *

"What the hell do you want?" snapped Axel the instant Zexion pushed open the door to his room. The slayer had taken a break from stomping around and swearing to flop like a dead fish in a chair, his face flushed and arms dangling limply over the sides of the chair. He fixed Zexion with a stormy glare.

Zexion didn't see fit to respond to this. He stepped further into the room, his steps muffled by the thick carpet. Axel shrank back against the chair, a scowl dragging his face downwards.

"Seriously. Why the hell you'd come barging in here? Goddammit, get the hell out of here, don't you respect something called privacy?"

Zexion bit back an insult or two or three; as much as he'd have loved to get into a shouting match with Axel, it wouldn't end in as satisfactory a manner as it would if he followed the plan he'd already formulated on his way to the room. _It is the ends that matter more than the means._

This he told himself, while offering Axel a blandly pleasant smile and saying, hands clasped demurely behind his back, "I cannot simply want to...ahh...make friendly conversation?"

Axel snorted derisively. "You gotta be kidding me. _Friendly conversation? _What kind of shit is _that, _vamp?"

_My name is Zexion, _Zexion wanted to shoot back, but swallowed his pride and went on. "Come, now, it isn't as if I have anyone else to speak to..."

"That's not true," said Axel. "I bet cute little Dem-Dem would happily bend over backwards for you."

Zexion bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from wincing at the heavily derisive tone Axel was using. No...he didn't want to think about Demyx. Not now. It wouldn't do to act with his mind clouded with anger.

Slowly, as he approached Axel, closing the distance between them with quiet step after quiet step, he began unleashing his powers. Not letting them loose in a single onslaught like a deluge, because Axel would _definitely _notice then and he'd quickly put a stop to Zexion's plan. He let them creep up gradually, like rain dripping from eaves, letting them seep slowly through the room through the cracks of Axel's consciousness...by the time Axel noticed it would be too late...

They seemed to be already working, because when Zexion sank to one knee before Axel, taking the slayer's chin between his thumb and forefinger, Axel didn't protest in any way except going slightly stiff. Zexion, encouraged, leaned even closer to Axel, breathing in the slayer's distinct smoke-and-cinnamon scent.

_What the hell are you doing? _screamed a tiny voice in the corner of his mind--the only real rationality he had left. _Don't you remember--don't you remember what happened last time?_

He did, of course, no matter how desperately he tried shoving it aside. The last time he'd tried seducing Axel--the first time he'd met him--had ended in a complete failure. Had ended in Axel suddenly turning the tables on him, pinning him to the bed with such force that his head rang and he couldn't figure out what was happening until it was too late, until Axel had already torn through his clothes and began biting at his neck, until Axel had already begun moving inside him, laughing cruelly all the while--it had been the beginning, the beginning of the end and his long and painful fall--the first time of ten and twenty and too many too many times Axel had "mastered" him--

_No. Stop it, _he hissed inside. He would--_not_--lose himself in the memories. This time would be different. He'd be on his guard, and Axel would be too angry and upset to catch on to what was going on, at least not initially...

Even as he told himself these reassurances, he knew they sounded false and empty, mere platitudes meant to prop up his already wavering confidence.

_Too late now, _the internal voice snapped. He leaned closer to Axel so that their faces were only inches apart, tightening his grip on the slayer's chin, feeling the roughness of the unshaven skin beneath his fingers. To his encouragement, Axel leaned slightly closer to him, so that Zexion could feel the slayer's hot breath puffing against his face.

"Come, now," he said, lowering his voice to his most sultry whisper. "What's wrong with wanting someone to talk to? I figure that the two of us have gotten off on the wrong start..."

Which was one way of saying it, he supposed.

"Wrong start, huh?" said Axel, a wry smirk twitching up the corner of his mouth. "Whoa--hey--"

He leaned back, his body going stiff, when Zexion climbed into his lap--but then relaxed and draped a cautious hand over Zexion's back. It was all Zexion could do to keep himself from flinching under Axel's familiarly warm and heavy touch. He had enough self-control--and experience with doing this--to resist the urge, though, and returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around Axel's bony back, feeling the slayer's taut muscles through the thin material of his shirt. Again, doubt trembled in Zexion's mind, but again, he shoved it back. He twisted sinuously around, pressing his lips against the shell of Axel's ear.

"Hey! What're you up to?" demanded Axel.

"Like I said," whispered Zexion, "I wanted to have us a friendly _talk."_

"Friendly, huh?" said Axel, his voice coming encouragingly ragged and excited. "Nice idea of friendly, little slut."

Zexion cringed inside, expecting Axel to stand up and then slap him, having seen through the charade--but there was no hint of rebuke in Axel's voice at all, merely something light and lilting, which took Zexion a moment to understand: teasing.

The realization flooded him with relief. Emboldened, he nipped on Axel's earlobe. Axel responded with a short laugh and dug his hand deeper into Zexion's back, almost to the point of painfulness.

"Little slut," he repeated, with another cavalier laugh. "Won't Dem-Dem be upset you're cheating on him?"

"I doubt he'd appreciate it if you addressed him as such," murmured Zexion, bringing one hand up so that he was now teasing the short red hairs dusting the nape of Axel's neck.

"Ha ha, you think?" said Axel, delighted. "Still, I can't help but see him that way--as a little kid. I know he's grown up lots. Gone crazy, too; I mean, a relationship with a _vampire_..."

"He _is _sincere..." mumbled Zexion.

"Sure he is," said Axel, laughing again. "What a fucking retard."

Zexion rather thought that Axel was calling the pot the kettle black, but didn't voice the thought aloud. Instead, he diverted the conversation from Demyx (a thoroughly uninteresting topic, anyhow), and said, "What about _you?"_

"Huh? What about me?" said Axel, sounding disinterested. He'd moved his other hand to Zexion's back and was now massaging his skin through his shirt, sending shivers coursing up Zexion's spine. He maintained control--as he always did--and took advantage of Axel's rising interest to press himself even closer to the slayer, so that he could feel the steady _thump-thump _of Axel's heartbeat and was surrounded by the slayer's overpowering warmth, surrounded by the scent of brimming passion...

He allowed himself a slight, self-satisfied smile. It was working.

"Well, I was under the impression that you and Roxas...well..." said Zexion, drawing his words out carefully. "Well...you have a little..._something, _do you not?"

"A little something?" Axel frowned. "Well, I suppose so...but whatever, what's it matter to you?"

A defensive note had slipped into his voice--Zexion quickly steered the conversation into safer waters.

"Nothing," he said delicately, leaning up to plant a kiss on Axel's stubble-roughened chin. "'Relationships'...none of that means anything to me."

"'Course it wouldn't," said Axel, digging his fingers even deeper into Zexion's back--Zexion was sure he was leaving bruises. "Slutty little incubus that you are...not that I mind."

Zexion laughed out loud, delighted, at Axel's words. So it really _was _working--he could breathe easily now. The laugh turned into a surprised squeak when Axel slid one hand to Zexion's lower back and in a single neat motion stood, carrying Zexion with him.

"What--what are you doing?" he choked, alarmed.

"What's it look like?" said Axel, winking roguishly at him. Zexion blinked, quite sure Axel had never behaved in such a fashion with him before. "Giving us more room to work."

More room to--ahh!" As Axel deposited him rather roughly on the bed. Zexion didn't have time to gain his bearings before Axel sank on the bed above him, straddling him and resting a hand on his shoulder, gently but insistently pinning him down.

_Shit, _a tiny part of him thought, worried that what had happened last time was repeating itself--namely, that Axel had taken irrevocable control of the encounter--but he only had to look up and into Axel's eyes to see that it wasn't true. There was none of the cold, icy intention there'd been last time, hardening Axel's eyes like frozen emeralds; instead, their green surfaces were clouded like mist shrouding a forest, ablaze with unabashed, animalistic lust. Zexion allowed himself to breathe easier, content that he still had Axel under his control. Once he removed the thinking part of the slayer's mind, he had nothing to fear--the visceral part of Axel's self was all too easy to manipulate, as he'd learned to his great joy that time in the study when he'd called Axel out on the man's truly monstrous nature.

Axel was now running his free hand through Zexion's hair, tugging on the delicate slate-colored locks and mussing them up between his fingers with a sort of absent-mindedness that wrenched at Zexion's heart though he didn't know why--not until he realized that it reminded him of Demyx. He grit his teeth and unleashed more of his powers, determined to cast Demyx to the darkest corners of his mind so long as he had this task to perform.

"Say, Axel..." he said as casually as he could, as Axel's fingers ghosted down his chest, their touch warm through the thin material of Zexion's shirt.

"Hmm?" said Axel distractedly. One hand had moved to the front of Zexion's shirt, undoing the buttons with a gentleness that starlted the incubus; he couldn't ever remember Axel being gentle in bed with him before. Zexion scrambled to reciprocate the gesture, taking the hem of Axel's T-shirt and rolling it up slowly, exposing the man's lean, muscular torso. He prodded the skin, so much darker than his own, with a claw; Axel, for some bizarre reason, snickered.

"I have a...an...ahhh...request of you," he said, trying to keep the anxious tremble out of his voice. _Don't hesitate. Don't fear. That's why you failed the first time, because you hesitated. _He leaned closer to Axel, pressing his bare chest against the slayer's, feeling the slayer's powerful heartbeat pounding at too fast a rate; less like a steady thump than racing footsteps.

"Request?" said Axel, running a hand through Zexion's hair, again with uncanny tenderness. Zexion forced back his revulsion and leaned closer to the gesture, resting his head on Axel's shoulder. Bizarre as this behavior might be...if Axel wanted to play it "sweet and gentle", then Zexion would have to oblige him. This state of control was fragile, after all. If he acted too contrary, Axel would soon see through the act and then--

Zexion bit back the panic. "Yes...well...maybe a suggestion...if you'd listen, of course," he added coyly.

"Mm, I'm listening," mumbled Axel; his cooperation was perhaps helped along by Zexion delivering him a gentle nip on the neck. "So what's this request-slash-suggestion? Maybe...'blow me, Axel'?"

Zexion couldn't help his derisive snort. Then, to patch over Axel's perhaps injured feelings (he didn't know if Axel would be offended or not, but then again, the slayer had an ego as big as a hot-air balloon and just as fragile), he quickly said, "Well, perhaps not now--"

"That's perfectly fine," said Axel with his familiar cavalier laugh, ruffling Zexion's hair (and annoying him quite a bit). "Like I'd _ever _wanna kneel to anyone, let alone _you. _But hey, I wouldn't mind if _you _did _me _the favor, got it memorized?"

Zexion struggled mightily against the urge to curl his hand into a fist and slam it square in the middle of Axel's stupid smirking face.

"Maybe later," he whispered, as soon as he trusted himself to talk without his voice shaking in rage. "Right now, though...tell me, Axel...what is the main reason you do not want to fight the Coven of Thirteen?"

"Can't believe you're _still _pursuing this tangent, don't you ever get bored?" growled Axel, the grip on Zexion's hair tightening. Zexion exhaled sharply, though more out of relief than pain--this was a more familiar, more easily manageable Axel.

"Tell me." He lowered his voice into a cajoling, seductive whisper, tracing the curve of Axel's jaw with a finger. To his encouragement, Axel leaned closer. "Tell me why, Axel..."

"I've already told you," snarled Axel, yanking on Zexion's hair. "I don't think we stand a chance in hell, got it memorized? C'mon, look at us--there're only four of us and you can't say most of us are very strong fighters--"

"But," whispered Zexion, excitement spiking within him as he played his trump card, "what if there were _more?"_

This, unfortunately, didn't get its desired effect. Axel scoffed and shoved Zexion slightly away from him. "Aww, come the hell _on. _You can't be serious. You really believe the old fart when he says he has associates besides that one little girl?"

Ah; Axel had misunderstood the question. Quickly, Zexion amended: "No, I do not mean any shadowy...'associates'...of DiZ's that may or may not exist. I completely agree with you on that count."

Admitting that he agreed with Axel almost physically hurt him. Worse was Axel's reaction: the slayer through his head back and laughed. "Now that's a first!"

Much to Zexion's surprise, he found he no longer wanted to punch Axel--no, he now wanted to castrate the slayer with his claws.

As much poetic justice such an act would be, he knew it wouldn't be the wise choice--he'd come to Axel with a goal in mind. And come hell or high water, he was going to _achieve _that goal, never mind how stupid and boorish Axel might be.

"No...what I was thinking of...was...mm..." Zexion twined his body around Axel's, probing the tip of Axel's earlobe with his tongue. Once again, Axel snickered; Zexion decided that this was just the sound Axel made when he was happy while a normal person would gasp or moan. Then again, it fit Axel's character much better...

"What were thinking of? Go on," said Axel, his breath hitching as Zexion began nibbling on the cartilage of his ear. "Ahh--fuck, you're good at this."

_Of course I am, given what I am, _thought Zexion, feeling slightly exasperated. "I was thinking," he said, "that perhaps...we should get more _professional _help. You, after all, are not the only vampire slayer in existence..."

"Huh? What the fuck are you going on about?" growled Axel.

_You idiot, do you need it spelled out for you? _Zexion wanted to retort, but kept his cool and said, "I mean to say...why not recruit the other vampire slayers to help? I am sure they would be eager to end the source of most vampiric attacks..."

"Don't be an idiot--yeah, that hits the spot--" as Zexion swirled his tongue into the hollow where Axel's neck met his shoulder. "But come off it, the old fart said--"

"Honestly, Axel," said Zexion, with a low chuckle (not a snicker, he wouldn't descend there yet), meeting Axel's eyes. "What do _you _care what the 'old fart' says?"

Axel laughed out loud; Zexion was pressed so close to him that he felt the vibrations of Axel's laugh, as an uncomfortable thrumming in his chest. He resisted the urge to pull away, and leaned even closer to Axel so that he was almost drowning in the slayer's fiery presence.

"You're right," said Axel after his laughing fit had subsided. He'd resumed absently running a hand through Zexion's hair. "So, slut...what do you want me to do?"

Zexion blinked; if he wasn't mistaken, Axel had--for the first time ever--asked _him _for advice. He hung in the slayer's arms, disoriented for a moment. This had never happened before and he didn't know what to do, feared the moment would slip away like a minute hand moving away from the hour, before he could do anything with it.

He snatched at the opportunity. Grabbing Axel by the shoulders, he summoned all of his strength to turn the slayer over so he was on top--element of surprise helped him more than anything. He bent over Axel, straddling him and smirking; a smirk which, strangely enough, Axel returned. Heartened, Zexion bent down and pressed his lips against Axel's briefly, tasting the slayer's familiar smoky cinnamon flavor. He didn't let Axel deepen it, though, drawing away and gazing into Axel's eyes.

"Listen carefully," he said in a husky whisper, bending so that he and Axel were so close their noses were touching and he saw nothing but the misted-over green of Axel's eyes. "I will only explain this once..."

* * *

When he left Axel's room, he was feeling incredibly satisfied with himself. No, not for sleeping with Axel--he'd have loved to do without _that _part, but he'd survived by repeating _ends before means, ends before means _in his mind--but for having accomplished his goal. He'd done it, sold Axel on the plan he'd brewed on the fly, and best of all had come out of it unscathed save the unavoidable hickeys and love-bites.

He'd proven that what Axel and Demyx had said about him--that he was a poor manipulator--wasn't true. No doubt, now that the euphoria induced by Zexion's powers had worn off, Axel would be cursing himself in his room (though not right now, he'd fallen asleep), a thought which gave Zexion a wonderful sense of smugness.

He didn't want to think about what would happen after Axel woke up and stopped sulking...about what Axel would do to him...

_Demyx will protect me, _thought Zexion, but found himself remembering the argument they'd gotten into only hours ago. He shook his head angrily to dislodge the memory. It didn't matter, he didn't have to depend on Demyx for anything...

As he made his way down the hall, a familiar scent greeted him. He relaxed when he breathed it in--Demyx's comforting sea salt and ocean breeze scent, but stiffened only a second later. There was something...something _different_ about the slayer's scent. Something sharper and sour, something that caused Zexion's stomach to turn. A faint forboding feeling descended on him...surely Demyx couldn't have found _out_...

But then again, he thought sourly, why should it _matter _to Demyx? Anyway, he'd done a good thing; Demyx couldn't argue with _that_...

Demyx rounded the corner only seconds later. He stopped when he saw Zexion, his arms falling stiffly by his sides and his face hardening. Despite himself, Zexion felt a tremor of apprehension--he'd never seen Demyx so...so..._disapproving_...before. He'd seen an upset Demyx and a whining Demyx and an angry Demyx, but never Demyx glaring at him with eyes harder than sapphires and his set in a firm line of disapproval...

It was perhaps worse than being yelled at.

"Demyx," he said quietly, breaking the silence that settled heavy and oppressive over them, like the humidity before a thunderstorm. Demyx didn't acknowledge him, though his eyes only grew harder.

Zexion clamped his mouth shut; suddenly anything he was going to say seemed pointless, the words nothing but empty sounds falling forcelessly through the air. His logic struggled against this thought--didn't he live under the belief that there was no more powerful weapon than a word? Yet here he was, forced into silence by a glaring human. The thought alone was enough to make him choke. _Especially _since he hadn't done anything wrong; _he _was the one who should be upset at Demyx, not the other way around.

Emboldened, he took a step closer to Demyx. Demyx didn't move from his spot, except to cross his arms. Zexion didn't want to admit how much more ominous the gesture made Demyx seem.

"I know," said Demyx, speaking for the first time. Zexion reeled on the spot, shocked by how cold and taut Demyx's voice was--he'd _never _heard the happy-go-lucky slayer like that before. He knew Demyx's voice bubbling with joy, sulky in annoyance, rough with anger, but never, _never _so hard and icy. Never.

"Ex--excuse me?" Zexion managed, ashamed at how weak his voice was coming out. "Know wh-what, exactly?"

"I know," said Demyx again, his voice ringing with strength from anger, "what you were doing with Axel."

* * *

Demyx advanced on Zexion, his steps ringing abnormally loud in his ears--but not nearly as loud as the violent throbbing of his heart, almost drowning out all other sounds. He could barely think above it, but most of him didn't want to think. Most of him wanted to _act. _Wanted to grab Zexion in the collar and shout in his face, for being an idiot and a slut, for hurting Demyx not once but _twice, _all within the space of the same hour--

Zexion had gone slightly paler when Demyx spoke, but he fought to get himself under control. When he spoke, his voice was perfectly bland and neutral, and his face blank as a white wall. "What do you mean by that? I was not doing anything, except paying him a visit--"

Disgust knotted in Demyx's stomach. Did Zexion _really _think him so stupid he'd throw out a blatant lie like that? "You know, I have eyes and ears."

Zexion arched an eyebrow. Demyx went on, pointing a shaking finger at the red and blue marks dotting Zexion's pale neck, most of which he'd been trying to hide by turning up his shirt collar. "Don't think I'm so blind I _can't _see those. And don't think I'm so deaf that I _couldn't _hear you two go at it."

Zexion stepped back as if he'd been slapped, but regained control of himself in time. Still, when he spoke there was a harsh edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. "How much...how much did you hear?"

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure Roxas and DiZ and Namine didn't, if that's what you're worried about." Demyx laughed sourly. "I was in my room. Listening to every word."

The words tore from his throat like chunks of barbed wire; his chest tightened with every syllable he spoke. Painful as it was, though...he couldn't just let Zexion _not _know. Not realize just what he'd subjected his lover to...

"Well, then," said Zexion, still making a desperate stab at his usual clipped indifference, "you should know that I was doing a good thing."

"_What?" _Zexion's words threw Demyx for a loop, and for a moment all of his arguments slipped out of his mind to be replaced by a startled blankness. How the hell could _anyone _call cheating a "good thing"? He'd long doubted Zexion's sanity; this seemed to prove that the incubus had finally lost his mind.

"I was," said Zexion. "If you heard, then you must know what I have gotten Axel to agree to."

"Uh--well--" Truthfully, Demyx hadn't been paying attention to what Zexion and Axel had been _saying, _since he'd been too focused on the other sounds--the grunts, moans, low snickers, gasped curses...

"You cannot argue that what I have done is _not _for the better. Axel, once he awakens I'm sure, will call together a council of some of the most renowned vampire slayers and werewolf hunters in the world. With their support, we should be able to bring an end to the Coven of Thirteen--and Xemnas--once and for all. Do you not agree that is a welcome development?"

"Well...I...ahh..." Demyx's hands were shaking and his throat felt hot, constricted. "Okay--all right--maybe it _is!"_

Zexion smiled quietly, looking satisfied.

"But," shouted Demyx, advancing on Zexion, "that doesn't make what you _did _to get it right, dammit! You--you seduced Axel, you--"

"In this case, the ends justify the means."

"I don't want to hear that! I _don't _want to hear that sort of shit!"

"What, so you would rather have me _not _do it? What do you think I should have done--tried to logically persuade Axel to lend his help? Have we not been _trying _to do that? I've saved us days of fruitless attempts. I have gotten _results. _You cannot possibly object to that--that is, if you have a rational thought in your head."

Demyx remembered how before, when he and Zexion had been arguing over the gift of the immortal, he'd wanted nothing more than to strangle Zexion. Now, he felt that strangling wouldn't be violent enough. A tiny voice in his head--maybe his conscience--rebuked him for wanting to use violence on Zexion, but he just told it to STFU. Anyway, he randomly found himself remembering a song (from a musical? He'd forgotten) that went _"The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them"._

Truer words could not have been spoken.

"Listen, Zexion, you don't _get it," _he snarled when he'd regained his voice. "When you--when you're in a _relationship _with someone, you don't just sleep around with whoever you like, doesn't matter _why. _It's called being faithful."

Zexion's eyebrow twitched, but otherwise he didn't react to Demyx's words. "Do not be a fool. I am an incubus, I do not have any use for your human ideas of monogamy."

"I don't care," shot back Demyx, struggling to keep his voice from rising with hysteria. "That's what love _is, _Zexion. Something between two people, something _special_--that _act _is something special. Something you only do with that one person--"

Much to Demyx's consternation, Zexion laughed out loud, the harsh, high-pitched peals of his laughter slamming into Demyx like physical blows. "You _idiot! _You clearly have no understanding of anything. This is the way you are, isn't it? Always clinging to your human ideals, unable to see that the world is not as simple as you would like to make it. If you really believe that vampires are monsters, that a relationship should be monogamous, then why would you ever have to pursued a relationship with me in the first place?"

"I--I--" Demyx was shaking insanely, his mind whirling. Zexion's words hurt, with a dragging physical pain deep in his heart--because they were _true. _What else could he have expected, falling in love with an incubus in the first place? "I thought--I dunno--that you could--that you'd understand my feelings, that you'd change--"

Zexion's expression hardened and he unleashed a long, low hiss that raised the hairs on the back of Demyx's neck. It was such a...a _vampiric_...sound. Then again, what could he have been expecting? Zexion _was _a vampire.

"Is it not strange that _I _am the one being asked to change--to give up what makes me _me_--while you can happily remain the way you are? Why should it not be _you _making the sacrifices?"

Demyx understood perfectly well what Zexion was getting at, and it twisted in his gut. "Listen--I don't believe that. That you're defined by being a--by being--by sleeping with other people. I thought, I mean, you can't object to that. Being with one person only. I thought that's what you wanted, too..."

"Perhaps I want it," said Zexion quietly, turning to the side and gazing at the wall. "Perhaps I do not. What I _want _is immaterial. What I _am _decides everything for me. You--you do not understand. An incubus is not--is not one of your made vampires, is not like other purebloods--we _cannot _get sustenance from blood alone."

"What?" whispered Demyx, his blood running cold. "What are you--"

"Don't you understand? I _need _to engage in that act in order to survive. To you, sex is--something you choose to do, whenever you feel like it. For me--I _have _to do it. Or I...I die."

He gazed levelly at Demyx, an emotion the slayer couldn't quite identify trembling in his eyes. Demyx trembled too, inside; everything Zexion said made perfect sense in the most terrible way possible. He remembered Axel's words, from that lesson so long ago: _Incubi and succubi, above all, are parasites, not predators. Don't think of them as regular vampires, who need to hunt humans--they _take _a human's energy, siphon it away whenever they fall into bed with a human. They need that energy to sustain themselves. Got it memorized?_

"But...but...but why do you have to sleep around?" he said. "You can't just--isn't it enough to just have _me?"_

Zexion shook his head mutely. "There comes a point when I become too used to the--the victim, the more visits I pay them. Then I can't take any more energy from them. I--I have already reached that point with you, Demyx. I reached it long ago."

He lowered his head--Demyx knew why. To hide the dark circles lining his eyes, the angular jut of his cheekbones. Demyx couldn't believe he'd been so dense as to not notice--he'd just attributed it to Zexion being hungry. But with DiZ, Zexion was drinking blood every day and yet the haggard look hadn't left him. He understood why now, and it trembled in his chest, made him feel sick and terrible. Like scum.

Scum because he understood--but he _didn't _want to let Zexion go. He knew, logically, that everything Zexion was saying was true. But his logic no longer ruled him, hadn't ruled him ever since he and Zexion had first spoken. _Don't you understand? You--you staked your claim on me all that time ago. You put a little bit of yourself in my bloodstream, lodged a little bit of yourself in my cells._

_I _can't _let you go now. I just can't. I want you to be mine, and mine only._

"I...I...I don't want to.." he whimpered, shaking and hating himself with every word that fell from his selfish lips. "I don't want to--don't want to let you--you belong to _me_--"

A weary smile spread across Zexion's face at Demyx's last words. "Say as much of that as you like. It will not change reality."

"I don't--I don't want to let you go--" He could feel a sob swelling in his throat, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. "I know, I know I should, I know what's logical and right and all that but I _don't want to. _I want us to really--to really be _together_--just you and me and me and you, that's all, no Axel, no one else, I want to know--when I'm with you at night--that no one else has claimed you--"

Zexion exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose in a weary manner. "Idiot."

The insult didn't hurt. Demyx went on, rambling to keep himself from crying. "And I'm still mad at you. I'm mad and I know I shouldn't be. But I _am. _Because--I don't think I wouldn't be so mad if it _wasn't _Axel. I mean, you _hate _him and he hates you and that's clearer than anything, but you still slept with him--that--it just--it pissed me _off_--"

"Then..." said Zexion slowly, not meeting Demyx's eyes. "Then...if you are still upset with me..._punish me."_

The words echoed in the dim silence, ringing in tune to the surprised ringing in Demyx's head. His hands were shaking again, but he sensed dimly it wasn't because of nervousness anymore, and heat spiked in his blood, bringing with it the dimmest flickers of anticipation--

_You damned pervert, _snarled the voice that he thought was maybe his conscience. Demyx shoved it back and straightened, gazing at Zexion, who gazed levelly back. Yet there was the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth...

"Punish me," repeated Zexion, a teasing edge to his voice. The smirk had become more pronounced, accompanied by a slight twinkle in his visible eye.

Demyx found it wasn't hard to return Zexion's smirk with a shark-like smirk of his own. He crossed the remaining distance between the two of them, seized Zexion by the forearm, and turned the incubus around so they were eye-to-eye. He bent towards Zexion and tilted his chin up with his free hand, whispering a single breathless word:

_"Okay."_

Zexion laughed out loud, a brief sound as wonderful as a butterfly suddenly flitting into a dark room. Demyx smiled to himself, a bit amused at how Zexion was treating this as a game--let his amusement last as long as it could. Which, if Demyx had his way, wasn't going to be very long.

He led Zexion into the nearest open door, shutting it securely behind him. They'd entered a spare guest bedroom, much to Demyx's relief; he didn't want to deal with the hassles of trying to do the dirty deed in a closet or a bathroom.

Zexion moved to the bed of his own accord, but before he could get down on it, Demyx grabbed him by the shoulder and pressed him into a kiss. Zexion stiffened at first, but then relaxed with a sigh and leaned into the kiss, letting Demyx into the warm cavern of his mouth. How long they remained together, arms wrapped so tightly around each other that Demyx had difficulty telling whose were whose, he didn't know, and didn't much care anyway. All he knew was Zexion, the slim body in his arms, the taste of violets and coffee--

Then he broke away from Zexion, somewhat reluctantly, but he had business to get down to. Zexion gazed back at him, still smiling playfully. "What do you want me to do now?"

It was useless trying to tell himself that Zexion was just toying with him, that the submissive softness in his voice wasn't sincere. He took a perch on the edge of the bed and unzipped his pants; his half-erect length sprang out, quivering in the chilly air. He was surprised by how hard he'd already gotten, but hell, it was enough just _being _in Zexion's presence, seeing Zexion's dark blue eyes glowing with that strange emotion he still couldn't identify, Zexion's pristine pearly skin...everything about Zexion. _His _Zexion.

"I see." Zexion chuckled slightly, as if enjoying a private joke. Demyx frowned slightly but decided it wasn't important. He beckoned Zexion; the incubus gracefully sank to his knees in front of him, his head lowered so his mop of slate-colored hair was hiding his face.

And then he took Demyx's cock inside his mouth.

Demyx moaned louder than he'd care to admit, digging his fingers into the bedsheets. He felt a pleasing tickling sensation that he realized was Zexion chuckling again, before the incubus started ducking up and down the length, sucking with almost frenetic eagerness. Demyx arched his back, gasping and swearing his pleasure to the ceiling--_dammit_--Zexion's mouth was so warm, so wet--what was even better was when he scraped the sensitive skin with his fangs, causing electric jolts of pleasure to stab through Demyx's groin.

"You--you're fucking _good _at this, aren't you?" he panted as Zexion darted down his length ago, thoroughly coating it with his saliva and setting Demyx's every nerve on fire.

Zexion laughed again. Demyx could have came right the and there--but he had more self-control than that. With a snarl at once reluctant and angry, he seized a fistful of Zexion's hair and dragged the vampire's head backwards, parting him from his cock. Demyx almost sobbed from the ache that stabbed up his length when Zexion's sweet mouth slipped away, but he held himself in check, telling himself there were greater pleasures ahead...

"What the fuck?" snarled Zexion, glowering at Demyx. "What was I doing wrong?"

Demyx offered him his hugest grin. "Nothing, Zexy dear."

"Then why--ahh--" as Demyx dragged him to a standing position with the hand still clutching his hair.

"Take off your pants," said Demyx, more impatiently than he was usually given to--but the throbbing between his legs was demanding a solution, and _soon. _He snapped his fingers to drive home the need for speed. "Hurry it up, all right?"

"What exactly is running through your mind?" said Zexion darkly, though he obeyed, reaching for waistband of his slacks. Demyx watched in eager anticipation as Zexion slid the zipper down, playfully as a striptease dancer would. The anticipation started to turn to impatience, though, when Zexion began hooking a finger into his waistband and snapping it in and out. He was just teasing Demyx, reveling in torturing him...

_You're diabolical, _thought Demyx appreciatively, but aloud he snapped, "Hurry up and cut to the chase, all right? I don't want a strip show."

"So impatient." Zexion smirked. "I assume you inherited that from Axel."

Anger flooded through Demyx, almost dissipating the haze of pleasure. "Don't--don't _you _fucking talk about him, dammit--"

"Ah, of course." Zexion _sounded _contrite enough, even lowering his head deferently. "Do forgive me."

It was all Demyx could do to keep himself from cursing out Zexion...or following through on his urge to strangle him. Clearly, he wasn't taking this seriously at all...but soon he would. Demyx would have make sure of that.

He wondered where this sudden strong urge to make Zexion _feel _his anger--to make Zexion _hurt_--had come from, and in a way, it scared him. But all he had to do was think about Zexion's teasing smirk, about him so callously calling Demyx an idiot for wanting to hold on to what made him _human_...and then it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

Zexion had by this point obeyed his order, dropping his pants so they gathered in a dark pool around his feet. Demyx couldn't help the grin that spread across his face by the sight of Zexion's body--his perfect pale skin, his shapely legs, his rapidly-hardening cock....he smirked to himself, but the smirk vanished when his eyes landed on the dark, finger-shaped bruises standing out starkly against the ice-white skin of his hips...

_Axel. _If his resolve to punish Zexion for whoring out his body hadn't been strong before...now it increased tenfold.

"So?" said Zexion, spreading his arms wide in an inviting gesture. "I'm yours for the taking. What do you want to do?"

_Aww, dammit... _Zexion knew exactly how to get at him. But soon he'd snatch the upper hand away from the incubus. Flashing Zexion an impish grin, he allowed himself to fall backwards to land on the soft bed wiht a gentle whump, so that he was lying on his back. He snapped his fingers to get Zexion to step closer; Zexion stepped out of his pants to approach.

He stopped slightly from the bed, his eyes widening and his face blanching even paler than its usual shade. "You...you have _got _to be kidding."

Demyx fought down the irrational urge to fall off the bed laughing. "Hey, I told you this was going to be a punishment."

"You son of a bitch," growled Zexion, a surprisingly masculine sound coming from _him. _"You _know _that is my least favorite position--"

"Oh, I know," said Demyx, still with much more delight than was probably polite. Then again, he didn't care about politeness, not when his cock was hardening uncomfortably in the chilly air. He couldn't wait around forever to get off...

"Son of a bitch," repeated Zexion.

"What? What do you want?" snapped Demyx, feeling suddenly annoyed. "Hey, why don't you tell me how Axel fucked you, so I can do the same if that's what you want--"

"Shut up!" Zexion flushed bright red momentarily. "I--I hate you--"

"You don't mean that, Zexy," said Demyx. Strangely, he didn't feel offended at all by the insult--maybe because he already knew it wasn't sincere. "Come on. We haven't got all day."

Zexion looked like he was ready to spit another curse at Demyx, but then shook his head in a resigned way and climbed on to the bed, positioning himself over Demyx. Demyx bucked his hips upwards to help Zexion along, and was rewarded when he felt his cock bump against Zexion's entrance.

Zexion stiffened when he felt the contact, and he opened his mouth slightly as if he wanted to make a protest, but Demyx spoke before he could, his tone terse and warning. "Zexion..."

The incubus swallowed hard and lowered his head deferently, though he couldn't hide the faint trembling that had arrested his body. Demyx, overcome with a sudden feeling of pity, reached out and delivered Zexion an encouraging squeeze on the arm. "It's okay, Zexy. Relax. The tenser you are, the more it's going to hurt."

"Don't--don't give me advice on how to do this," hissed Zexion. But then, in a quieter voice, "I...I'm happy to know that you still care."

"Zexy--" began Demyx, but his voice vanished into a half-gasp, half-moan, as Zexion impaled himself on his dick.

He squealed aloud as he felt Zexion's warm tightness envelop him, even tighter than usually because the incubus hadn't prepared himself in any way. He gazed at Zexion through the bleary haze of his pleasure, and could have died right then and there, what with his dick halfway up Zexion's ass, and Zexion groaning, supporting himself with his arms pressing into Demyx's stomach.

"Start moving," he grunted, trying to inject the word with the severity of the order, but failing, perhaps because he was panting too hard. "Up and down. Like doing pushups."

"I know what to do, idiot," growled Zexion, and as if to prove the point, he slid down, taking even more of Demyx inside him. Demyx moaned again, unable to help it. He'd only done this position once with the incubus before, having respected Zexion's wishes afterwards, because for some reason Zexion claimed to hate the position ("too much work," he'd sniffed when Demyx had asked). But it felt so damn _good, _hearing Zexion grunt as he lifted himself up and down on Demyx's length, his pace quickening, feeling the incubus's muscles tighten around his cock on the downward thrusts and the aching loosening of the upward thrusts. They panted and moaned in tandem, their ragged voices tainting the crisp autumn air inside the room.

"Ah--dammit--Demyx--" Zexion was half-gasping, half-sobbing, as he sank so low Demyx's cock disappeared entirely inside him. Demyx gazed into Zexion's bleary, tear-filled eyes and decided right then and there he loved no one as much as Zexion and never would love anyone more. That look of pure pleasure-from-pain on Zexion's face...Demyx could have came right then and there.

"Good boy--" he gasped, thrusting his hips upwards now to get more of his cock inside Zexion. "Good boy, Zexy, Zexion, Ienzo--"

"That--ahh--is not--_nngh_--my name--" retorted Zexion. "_Idiot_--"

Only Zexion could make that word sound like music, thought Demyx with a delighted giggle. The giggle turned into a laugh as he saw Zexion remove one of his hands from Demyx's stomach to begin toying with his own cock, running his delicate fingers up its twitching length. "Ah--Zexy--you feel amazing, did you know that--so fucking tight--"

"Ahh--'so fucking tight'--to me--is--'hurts like fucking hell'--" hissed Zexion in response, but the wild moan his voice descended into, and the way he began quickening the pace, rising and descending at a much faster pace up and down Demyx's now-slick cock, betrayed his true feelings. "_Demyx--"_

He was so _beautiful, _thought Demyx as he began speeding up the bucking of his hips in tandem to Zexion speeding up his thrusting. His head thrown back, sweat-soaked hair floating in front of eyes screwed shut in pure pleasure, tears tracing paths down the silky skin of his cheek, saliva glistening on soft lips--and his voice, ragged with pleasure, rising into wildly high mewls and cries, descending into throaty moans--it struck Demyx suddenly that Zexion wouldn't have a half bad singing voice; he certainly had an impressive vocal range...

"Fuck, Zexy, I'm gonna--" he groaned at the same time that Zexion screamed his name, and delivered his cock a firm squeeze.

They came at the same time, Demyx shooting everything he had to offer into Zexion's tight confines, and Zexion's semen splattering onto his stomach in great globs. Demyx pressed his head back against the bed, unleashing every curse he knew as he thrust several more times inside Zexion, marveling at the wetness that splashed out with his every movement. Zexion helped him along with a few more thrusts, still stroking his cock, sputtering staccato phrases in a language Demyx didn't recognize--probably his native French.

"You're an angel, Zexion," moaned Demyx, squeezing his eyes shut. "An angel of love."

"_Ange de l'amour," _echoed Zexion in a low mumble. "As if. You know what I am...a demon and whore..."

He had slid off Demyx, inciting a whined protest on Demyx's part. He felt strangely naked now that he didn't have Zexion's warmth surrounding him--but Zexion descended on the bed beside him, burying his face into the crook of Demyx's neck. Demyx rolled over to face Zexion, surprised by the incubus's sudden affection, but didn't mind it. He wrapped his arm around Zexion's back, feeling the thin shoulder blades through the sweat-soaked material of his shirt, and drew him closer. Though Zexion's skin was as familiarly cool as always, warm semen--both his and Demyx's--mingled on their stomachs and lower bodies, creating a comfortable warmth.

"Love you, angel," mumbled Demyx, letting his heavy eyelids drop. "How do you feel?"

"Irritated. Stop calling me what I am not." A pause, and then he added, more hesitantly, "And sore."

"Mm, that's no one's fault but your own," said Demyx. "I imagine Axel was rough on you first?"

"Shut up." With surprising strength, Zexion threw off Demyx's grip and rolled to the side, breaking the comfortable contact between them. Demyx sighed but made no move to close the distance.

"You're not sorry at all for what you did, are you? Even after I punished you."

"No, I am not." Defiance entered his voice. "I did the right thing."

Demyx groaned and buried his face into the pillow. Some things just weren't worth it...

But he thought, remembering the glow of pure pleasure he felt, the pleasure he'd seen blazing in Zexion's face--the tightness inside Zexion, the warmth as they held each other--

Some things were.

* * *

Sorry to all you people looking for make-up sex, but I had to address another hurdle in Zexion and Demyx's relationship (the last one being the whole immortality issue)--namely the fact that Zexion is, well, an incubus.

Hope you enjoyed this long chapter...I had a lot of fun writing it, in part because of the vaguely humorous/sardonic vibe that kept popping up, especially in Axel's interactions with Zexion. I don't think any of you will be having any more doubts over how much I hate Axel.

Lastly, if you can name the song and musical from which the line "The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them" comes from, then you get a free e-cookie. Yaaay.

Preview for chapter next, called "Council", and actually plot-important, yay...as well as introducing (and reintroducing) a few characters you'll probably all be interested in seeing:

_Demyx's heart was pounding a mile a minute as he entered the sitting room. Feeling sick, he swept his gaze over the men, all looking much more comfortable in business suits than him, sitting in a circle of chairs and intently conversing while they sipped at mugs of coffee. There was Marluxia of the Florez family, smiling haughtily and occasionally adjusting his salmon-pink tie as he discussed the World Series with Xigbar, slovenly in a gray suit, and lounging casually against his chair. There was a slayer Demyx didn't recognize, with spiky blond hair and a sharp black suit, watching the conversation silently while resting one hand on a giant sword by his side. Sitting to his left was another young man Demyx didn't know, with long-ish dark brown hair and a scar over his face, wearing a brown suit and talking with Axel. And Axel...Demyx couldn't help the way his attention instantly slid to Axel--out of all the gathered slayers, Axel sat with a lazy confidence that was all his, smirking resplendently, his scarlet tie a brilliant flash in the muted colors of the sitting room. It couldn't be clearer that he held the real authority in the room._

Keep it up with the wonderful reviews...I'm only ten away from 300 (This is...SPARTA!!!)! You people are the best.


	25. Council

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_25. Council_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: More proof that I am not indeed dead!

Here's a pretty long chapter, and the introduction of some characters who have yet to properly show up (namely the FF ones...hope I haven't massacred their characters because I've never played a single FF game). Bleh, I'm not too fond of this chapter...it didn't end up at all the way that I was imagining it. But oh well, I had to get it over with.

Oh, but you get Org members in suits. Perhaps it's just my weird fetishes, but that's a bizarrely hot image, no?

* * *

"You serious, Axel?" said Roxas, wide-eyed.

"'Course," said Axel, winking at him as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're as much a part of this as any of us. And I'd say out of all of us, you're the one who wants to see Xemnas fall the most."

A part of Roxas wanted to remind Axel that it was probably _Zexion _who wanted that most, but he held his tongue, less out of prudence than the fact that he couldn't think of anything to say. He was going to be part of a real _slayer council..._a council that would decide the fate of the Coven of Thirteen.

He wasn't sure the exact details of how the council came to be, but he knew enough: apparently, somehow during the night Axel had been persuaded to cast his lot with DiZ, though he insisted on calling a council of vampire slayers in order to aid them against Xemnas. DiZ and Axel had argued marvelously over that, waking Roxas up in the middle of the night. He and Namine had gone to see the argument, and together they'd somehow managed to convince DiZ to allow the council, though he insisted that it was too soon. Namine had cut him down when she reminded him, "But DiZ...I thought you wanted to get your revenge sooner?"

So he consented. And now...now DiZ and Axel were organizing the coming council. He didn't know what Zexion and Demyx were doing, but figured they were staying out of trouble if Axel wasn't complaining and-slash-or ranting about them. But as for him and Namine...Axel had approached them that morning while they were drawing pictures together (for lack of anything else to do), and told both of them to come.

"And I...I can come?" said Namine quietly, but her voice ringing with hidden strength. Axel nodded.

"The Coven of Thirteen killed your parents," he said. "Who would we be if we didn't give you a voice on the council?"

Namine nodded. "Thank you," she said, and again that resolve was back--tempered by a bitterness that alarmed Roxas somewhat, because he'd never heard anything like it from Namine before.

_She's like me, _he thought. _She wants...revenge._

"All right," said Axel with a laugh, ducking out of the doorway which his lanky form practically filled. "Well, I'll come tell you when we're ready to get started, got it memorized?"

"Yeah," said Roxas, finally managing to think of something halfway intelligent to say. Axel nodded one final time, his green eyes filled with a strange emotion Roxas couldn't quite identify; suddenly, Roxas wanted to rush up and throw his arms around Axel and reassure the older slayer that everything would be all right...

The crazy urge passed the instant it had appeared, and all for the better, too. Axel shut the door behind him, and Roxas was left standing there, feeling strangely warm and uncomfortable.

"He's...he's a very kind man, isn't he?" said Namine, in her measured way, gazing at the door--but Roxas could really tell that her attention was focused on something else, something distant...a distant prospect.

"Yeah," he managed, feeling his blush intensify. "Yeah, he is."

* * *

Zexion hadn't seen Axel since that night, when he'd seduced the slayer (though he had of course heard Axel and DiZ's argument--it was the kind that could wake up an entire city block, if they _were _in the city)--and he was perfectly fine with it that way. He was quite sure that Axel would be in a _magnificent _rage after what had happened last night, and did not much look forward to being on the receiving end of that rage.

He'd taken to hiding in the library. _Hiding_--he didn't like that word. It reeked of cowardice, but what other way could he put it? The plain truth was that he was afraid of Axel, so he'd taken to the most secluded corner in the library he could find so as to keep Axel from finding him. If that wasn't hiding, then what _was?_

Currently, he could detect Axel's scent moving up and down in the halls on the ground floor; he was quite sure Axel would be yelling and pitching a fit about not being ready yet to receive any visitors because he wasn't finished with his preparations, got it fucking memorized. It didn't surprise Zexion; Axel had behaved that way back in his own manor, right before he held that party, scrambling back and forth to rearrange furniture and berating his servants for baking the wrong appetizers and generally acting like a hysterical woman before her wedding.

That party...the one in which Zexion had met Demyx, the one that had started all of this, for better or for worse...

There was another scent that seemed to be tailing Axel; it a heavy one that reminded Zexion of an overgrown garden on a hot summer day, all rich sweet overpowering scents rising over one another like opera singers' voices. He felt lightheaded just detecting it. Presumably, it was one a slayer who'd arrived early; he resolved to stay out of the slayer's way if at all possible, because he was quite sure he would faint if he came too close to that sickening presence.

Then again, he didn't plan on meeting any of the slayers in person, and he doubted Axel and DiZ would let him in the first place. Oh, it had been _his _idea to call the council in the first place, but he knew the way vampire slayers worked. They would never let an incubus into a formal slayer council, and most probably Axel would take the credit for having called it.

He curled up tighter in his armchair, gazing at the rows of leather-bound books opposite him. Several of them he'd taken out and opened on the table in front of the chair, but quickly tired of looking at them because they were all atlases, and in bad condition--on some pages the ink had faded completely away. He'd grown bored with trying to identify the blotchy shapes that remained and shoved them aside.

Axel's scent was moving again...scaling the staircase to the second floor, where the library was...in fact, he seemed to be moving closer to the library.

Zexion immediately tensed, adrenaline rushing through his frozen veins. He rose to a defensive crouch, claws outstretched, prepared to attack the instant Axel approached...even though his logic was telling him it wouldn't be a fight at all. Axel would overpower him in an instant, animated by not just his natural strength but his rage--

It would be just like that first time, when he'd grabbed Zexion by the wrists and pinned the protesting incubus to the bed, laughing all the while, before reaching for the waistband of his pants...

_Stop it--stop thinking this way, you idiot! He will not--you have the element of surprise here--and he doesn't even know you are in here, does he?_

With his sensitive hearing, he heard the library's mahogany double doors swing open, heard the light and all-too-familiar footsteps click against the polished floorboards, sending an involuntary shudder running down Zexion's spine...he found himself remembering how in those first few days after Axel captured him, he would wait with fear and dread, chained and blindfolded in his cell, as Axel's footsteps approached...

He shook his head to clear away the bad memories, just as Axel's voice, sharp with impatience, shouted, "I know you're in here, vamp! Come out, come out, wherever the hell you are, got it memorized? --shit, I don't have _time _for you fucking games--"

Zexion remained frozen in place, sweat prickling on the back of his neck. He tried telling himself that Axel wasn't going to hurt him, but it was pointless. His mind could say anything it wanted; his body still remembered every blow, every kick, every painful grip, every panicked night--

"Dammit! Come the hell _out!" _To Zexion's horror, the steps grew ever louder, and the scent of smoke and cinnamon grew ever stronger--Axel was approaching his hiding place.

And then Axel appeared between the bookshelves, a scowl dragging down his face and his arms folded. Compared to the towering shelves on either side, he was tiny, but he loomed above Zexion anyway. The incubus's head swam.

But not for long. Immediately, blind instinct took over and with a ferocious snarl he dove at Axel, prepared to stab straight the slayer's heart with his claws and suck his blood, all of it, suck him into a dry and empty husk so he could never get up and hurt Zexion again--

A vice-like grip closed around his wrist and bent his arm painfully backward; despite himself, Zexion cried out in pain. Axel jerked harder on his arm and he lost his balance, falling roughly to his knees and breathing hard, panic swirling in his mind. It was coming--Axel was going to hit him or kick him or worse--

Pain erupted in his abdomen. He doubled over, retching, feeling his stomach twist in on itself from the force of Axel's kick; hot bile rose in his throat. To make matters worse, Axel laughed aloud, a cruel sound like knives being dragged across Zexion's flesh.

"I spared your face, vamp, 'cause that's the one thing you've got going for you--_oh, _fuck! That's _disgusting!"_

Zexion hadn't been able to help it--he'd vomited all over the floor. The dark red undigested blood spread across the floorboards, shockingly bright against the subdued colors of the rest of the laboratory. Axel cursed and stumbled rapidly backwards.

"Dammit, fucking incubus--if you get any of that shit on these shoes I'm going to fucking _kill _you, I just bought them--"

And that Axel had. With slight interest, Zexion looked up to see that the slayer was wearing shiny dark dress shoes, along with a very stiff pinstriped black suit with a tie a shade brighter than his hair. It was not a very pleasant image; Zexion resolved to tell Axel that he should stay away from wearing suits altogether unless he got a halfway respectable haircut--as soon as he got enough breathe back to speak.

He straightened, lurching to his feet and wiping his mouth, most emphatically avoiding the puddle of vomited blood he'd left behind. It still hurt where Axel had kicked him and there was a sharp, sour taste in his mouth, but he did his best to present a strong image. Since he still didn't trust himself to speak, he settled for glaring at Axel.

"Don't act so pissed," said Axel, straightening his suit lapels. "It's _your _fault, attacking me in the first place. Anyway, vamp, I've got a present for you."

"A present?" Zexion hissed, tensing.

"Yeah," said Axel, taking a step closer--Zexion instinctively took a step back. "Hey, look, don't panic, I'd be stupid to beat you up right before the council--"

"Why?" spat Zexion. "As I recall, you used to have no problem with beating me before you would meet with other slayers...you said some nonsense about 'stress relief' or whatnot..."

"Well, yeah, maybe that's so," said Axel, twitching as if tyring to dispel a fly, "but look, if you show up there all covered with bruises they're going to have questions, and I haven't got time to be cross-examined."

"What do you mean?" Zexion narrowed his eyes.

"I mean what I say, idiot," said Axel most unhelpfully. "And hey, you can't show up dressed like that--" he added, tugging on the sleeve of Zexion's oxford shirt; Zexion immediately pulled away. "The dress code for slayer councils is business formal, got it memorized?"

"Ex..._excuse _me?" Zexion was sure he hadn't heard correctly. "Are you saying--what are you--am _I _to go to this council?"

Axel unleashed an exasperated sigh and a ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up even more. "You're pretty unperceptive, aren't you? I mean, _you're _going to come to the council as well. It was your idea, fucking incubus."

Zexion stared at Axel, quite sure his jaw at dropped quite foolishly. He couldn't have expected--_this. _He'd expected being excluded, along with Demyx and Roxas, while the _real _slayers sat down to discuss business, but apparently Axel was generous enough to include him... No, that was idiotic, Axel was _never _generous. He must have an ulterior motive--but what?

"So get going, vamp," said Axel, thumping the startled incubus on the back with so much force he almost bowled him over. "Oh--and one more thing--straighten up a bit, dammit--"

Zexion obeyed, though he felt rather irritated--but before he could ask Axel why, he felt a sharp sting in his left ear and then a sudden unpleasant burning sensation, exactly like that of silver...

Axel laughed cavalierly and jingled the silver hoop he'd inserted into the soft flesh of Zexion's earlobe. "Just..._insurance, _little slut. So you don't pull any stupid tricks on the _other _slayers like you did on me..."

It was all Zexion could do to keep from hissing, or spitting on Axel's stiff new suit. Already, he could feel his powers begin to ebb away, like the last fitful drizzle before the clouds of a storm parted. Axel patted him with undue force on his shoulder before turning around and striding away again, hands in his pockets. Midway down the aisle between the shelves, he turned to throw Zexion one last glance.

"Oh, and one more thing--go tell Demyx to come, too. Knowing him, he's probably still asleep, so wake the little bugger up. Got it memorized?"

"What--_Demyx?" _choked Zexion, his head spinning. Everything--_everything _Axel was doing defied what Zexion had been expecting, what Zexion had deduced of his personality. He'd expected Axel to rage at him, to attack him and attempt to repay the "favor" in kind...but instead all he'd done was stick a silver ward on the incubus and then tell him to run an errand. In fact, Axel seemed more _amused, _in a bizarre macabre way, than angry.

Zexion frowned to himself, digging his claws into his forearm to distract him from the burning pain of the ring in his ear. Well, _this _was an unusual development...he'd be sure to keep track of it. But for now, he had other things to think about. He hadn't expected having to speak before the council, so he'd have to think of things to say, of how to argue his case...

And even before that, he had to go get Demyx.

* * *

Demyx fumbled with the tie of his new suit, cursing under his breath the idiot who'd invented neckties in the first place. He could _never _wear them right, and they seemed designed for the express purpose of choking people. In fact, he could have sworn he'd read somewhere that wearing neckties increased your blood pressure and made the risk of getting a heart attack even higher...

Lucky for him that his line of work didn't require him to wear suits often--but apparently, according to Axel, he had to dress up for a slayer council. So here he was, standing before the mirror in his room, flushing hot with embarrassment as he struggled to knot the blue-and-silver diamond-patterned tie properly. His fingers, so adept with a gun and even more so with a guitar's strings, kept slipping and getting tangled with the tie so that he had to undo it every time and restart.

He had to chalk part of it up to nerves--he'd never been to a formal slayer council before, after all. He knew about their existence, but they were held only among the highest-ranked slayers (now, he realized, the ones who were not human), and they discussed all sorts of lofty, important things in them. Slayer councils set the rules of the slayer societies and decided which vampires were the most dangerous, and thus the most necessary to slay. And to think that he, an unimportant, incompetent human slayer, would be taking part in one...

Finally, he decided that he'd gotten his tie as straight as he possibly could, and slipped into the navy blue suit jacket. As he did up the buttons, he gazed at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized the young man staring back at him, with slicked-back hair instead of his usually messy fauxhawk, and clad in an Armani suit with a sloppily-done tie and lopsided lapels. _I look terrible, _he thought, grimacing.

The door to the room clicked open; Demyx turned and saw that Zexion had entered. The breath stopped in his lungs, and he swayed for several seconds, feeling very much like he'd been punched in the chest.

He'd never seen Zexion in a suit before, but now he decided that this was the way he liked Zexion most, and how he wanted to see Zexion all of the time. He wore it so _well_: his purple-striped tie was perfectly straight and knotted right up to the collar, and the cut of his black suit, instead of making him appear ridiculous as Demyx's did, served to broaden his shoulders and sharpen his silhouette. He looked--older. More mature. And did Demyx dare say..._manlier?_

"What the hell has been taking you so long?" snapped Zexion, striding right up to Demyx.

"Um, well..." began Demyx, but before he could explain, Zexion's hands shot out and closed around his tie, straightening it with several insistent yanks.

"Have you," snarled Zexion, "_ever _known a woman in your entire life?"

"Huh? What?" Demyx was rather alarmed at this line of questioning. "CourseI have! Don't think I don't do _anything _when I go to bars!"

"I don't mean like that, idiot," said Zexion, as he busied himself with flattening Demyx's lapels. "I mean that you have no earthly clue how to dress yourself, so clearly no one has ever taught you. Even Axel has better dress sense than you do."

"Well, _sorry," _said Demyx. "It's not like Axel ever taught me how to do a tie. And hey, you don't need to know a woman to be able to dress, look at you--"

"I am," said Zexion, "_French."_

"Oh, right," groaned Demyx, smacking his forehead. "Of _course."_

"Hmm, well," said Zexion after he finished buttoning Demyx's jacket cuffs, stepping back to appraise the slayer. "I suppose there is nothing I can do about that hair...do not blame me if everyone laughs at you, fool."

Demyx grimaced, resisting the urge to think, _Too true._

"Well, glad I have you," he said as he began following Zexion out of the room. "You'd make a great wife, Zexion."

He regretted it the instant the words came tumbling out of his mouth. Flushing, he stopped in his tracks. What was worse was Zexion's reaction: the vampire did nothing except throw him a pitying glance before turning around and heading on his merry way down the hall again, hands clasped behind his back, acting as if nothing had even happened. Still blushing furiously, Demyx ran to catch up and soon overtook Zexion.

As they headed down the stairs, coming ever closer to the sitting room in which the council would be held, his nerves began acting up again with a vengeance. Already, all of the slayers had arrived--Marluxia of the Florez family (who'd come an hour early), Xigbar of the Marchen family, and a few names he didn't recognize (the banker Luxord hadn't attended, because he was on business in Switzerland, according to Axel). All powerful and experienced slayers, so much stronger than the weak little human Demyx. No doubt they'd talk knowledgably about old campaigns and vampire slaying methods and he wouldn't know what to say, he'd feel like a stupid schoolboy...or worse, if he did speak, he'd probably embarrass himself and they would all wince a little bit before politely trying to steer the conversation into safer waters, and then he'd have to sit there for the rest of the council, blushing like an idiot...

Demyx's heart was pounding a mile a minute by the time he entered the sitting room. Feeling sick, he swept his gaze over the men in there, all looking much more comfortable in business suits than him, sitting in a circle of chairs and intently conversing while they sipped at mugs of coffee. There was Marluxia, smiling haughtily and occasionally adjusting his salmon-pink tie as he discussed the World Series with Xigbar, slovenly in a gray suit, and lounging casually against his chair. There was a slayer Demyx didn't recognize, with spiky blond hair and a sharp black suit, watching the conversation silently while resting one hand on a giant sword by his side. Sitting to his left was another young man Demyx didn't know, with long-ish dark brown hair and a scar over his face, wearing a brown suit and talking with Axel. And Axel...Demyx couldn't help the way his attention instantly slid to Axel--out of all the gathered slayers, Axel sat with a lazy confidence that was all his, smirking resplendently, his scarlet tie a brilliant flash in the muted colors of the sitting room. It couldn't be clearer that he held the real authority in the room.

In two seats behind Axel were Roxas and Namine, positioned more like spectators than participants. Neither seemed to mind, though. Roxas, in a beige suit with a checkered tie, was leaning forward eagerly, looking determined to take in every word of the conversation. Namine, dressed in white as always, sat to his left and avoided looking at anyone.

"Sit down, sit down," said Axel, gesturing lazily to two empty seats to his right. Demyx swallowed a hard obstruction in his throat before stepping forward to take the seat. The conversation halted as he crossed the room; he could sense all eyes on him, burning into him with their scrutiny. As soon as he sat down he lowered his gaze and clutched the edges of the seat, hoping with all his might that the slayers would just stop _staring _at him; it was making him more than uncomfortable.

Miraculously, they did--but only because Zexion had entered the room. He could sense, immediately, how the tension in the air changed, becoming sharper and tighter like a wire stretched to its limit. He could almost _taste _it, corrosive and burning like lightning. Out of pity and sympathy, Demyx lifted his gaze as Zexion headed towards his seat, offering the incubus what he hoped was an encouraging smile; Zexion wasn't looking at him, though--instead, he gazed straight ahead, directly into Axel's eyes, seemingly heedless of all the people staring at him. He stood straight and proud and confident, appearing almost taller than anyone else in the room, which was quite a feat since every slayer present far outstripped him in height, and spoke in clear but biting tones to the red-haired slayer.

"As you can see, we are all present."

"Yeah, I see that," snapped Axel, his eyes narrowing. "Sit down, incubus."

"My name is Zexion," said Zexion, his tone quiet yet confident.

"Well, _well, _Axel!" burst out Xigbar, laughing in loud delight. "Invitin' yer pets to councils, now?"

_Pets? _Demyx was confused for a moment, before he remembered that Axel had initially presented Zexion to the world as his "pet". How long ago those days seemed...

Zexion stiffened but did not speak. Axel shot Xigbar a glare; Xigbar shrugged as if to say "suit yourself", and Axel then pointed at the empty seat beside Demyx. "As I was saying, sit _down."_

The vampire obeyed without protest, though he never removed his glare from Axel's face. Demyx shuddered, trying in vain to shake off the heavy tension that had yet again descended over the room.

"What's going on here?" said the spiky-headed young man, glaring at Zexion while tightening his grip on the hilt of his enormous sword. "Axel, why are you inviting _vampires _to a slayer council?"

"Long story--" began Axel with a grumble.

"I was the one who suggested this council in the first place," said Zexion.

Spiky-hair raised an eyebrow. Marluxia, as if to outdo him, raised both of his.

"I remember that this is why I'm not a vampire slayer," said the brown-haired man calmly.

_Huh? He's not? _Demyx added his own confusion to the confusion party.

"A-_hem." _Axel cleared his throat, clapping his hands to bring everyone's attention back to him. "Let's all start from the beginning, shall we? You remember why I called you all in the first place, don't you?"

"Yes," said Marluxia, rather grouchily. "You _claimed _to have discovered a way to cripple, in one blow, nearly every coven in the world."

Xigbar laughed out loud, as if he'd heard a very funny joke, while the spiky-haired youth looked skeptical. The brunette said, "I don't see what any of this has to do with me."

"That's what I'm _getting _to, Leon--Jesus Christ, have some patience, all of you,_" _said Axel with a scowl. "I _do _have a reason, but first, let's all be polite and get some introductions under way. Everyone, this is Demyx, my former student, and this is--what's your name again--"

"My name is Zexion," said the incubus quietly. Then, after a moment's hesitation, "Pleased to meet you."

The slayers did not look nearly as pleased. "Well, you already know these two idiots--" Axel swept a hand towards Xigbar and Marluxia, both of whom looked offended, before turning his attention to the two strangers. "This--" he pointed to the blonde "--is Cloud Strife, vampire slayer, and this is Squall Leonhart, a werewolf hunter. They're both very good at what they do, and they're going to help us."

"I don't remember saying that," grouched Cloud.

Understanding flooded through Demyx--so _this _was why Axel was holding the council in the first place. To form a strike force against the Coven of Thirteen...but he found himself wondering if the skeptical slayers would even believe their tale, so bizarre as it was...

As Axel started talking, telling from the beginning their tale--starting from his capture of Zexion (though he skimmed over the details; Demyx noticed Zexion's visible relief at that)--Demyx found much of his nervousness had begun dissolving. Instead of flapping away about things Demyx didn't know, the other slayers kept silent except for occasional interjections at points in Axel's tale. Demyx soon found himself taking part, because part of the story was his alone, and Zexion soon joined in as well, mostly to correct Axel and Demyx whenever they made mistakes. Sometimes one of them talked alone for a stretch, to explain what they'd been doing when their paths had diverged--Demyx was just as fascinated as the other slayers to learn what Axel and Zexion had been up to. His head swam when he heard how Zexion had "killed" Axel, made Roxas, and journeyed north for Demyx's sake alone, and he discovered that Axel had during the time when Zexion had been away was busy searching for both of them. Even Roxas started speaking at times, to explain _his _side of the story.

When they were finished talking--culminating with an explanation of the Xemnas, DiZ, and the Coven of Thirteen--Demyx sank against the back of his seat, feeling as exhausted as he would have after a fight. It'd taken a surprising amount of energy, drawing on his memories to give the best account he could of everything that had happened...

A long silence descended upon the room, which, coupled with the darkening sky behind the window curtains, gave it a somber air. The other four slayers seemed to be lost within their thoughts, trying to digest everything they'd heard...

Cloud broke the silence first. "How can we believe what you're saying?"

Demyx had been expecting such a response, but couldn't for the life of him think of how to reply. He felt too tired to think logically; luckily, Axel leapt to the rescue.

"It's true," he said. "It happened to all of us--c'mon, you'd think we'd all conspire to come up with a lie?"

"He has a point, you know," said Marluxia haughtily. "It all seems rather...unbelievable. Every coven gathered under the leadership of a single vampire? Who so happens to be _Xemnas, _of all people? And allying with _werewolves? _Come now, if this were really true, would we not have received _some _indication of it earlier?"

"Xemnas operates in perfect secrecy," retorted Zexion.

"I don't believe any of this," declared Cloud, standing up and shooting a challenging glare around the room. "Especially not _you_, vampire."

"You can choose whether you want to believe or not," said Zexion, "but that does not stop any of it from being true. I have been banished from my coven, and a bounty has been put on my head--do you think that I would do all that for a lie?"

Cloud looked ready to retort, but Leon said, somewhat sharply, "Cloud...sit down."

There was something in his voice, something else besides just an order. Something...that Demyx happened to recognize. An electric current of understanding passed through him; he tried throwing Zexion a knowing look, but the incubus was focusing all of his attention on Cloud.

"Well, listen," said Xigbar, his voice surprisingly calm compared to the suppressed heat, anger, and disbelief twanging through the room. "Axel's a good guy. I trust him, all right? He ain't the kind of guy who'd make up a lie for kicks. If he says this is all true, crazy as sounds, well, _I'll _throw my lot with him."

The others, however, did not look so convinced. Cloud continued standing and glaring at everyone, while Marluxia was doing his best to look haughty, and Leon folded his arms and just looked skeptical. Demyx resisted the urge to groan. Would it end like this? Their plan to put an end to Xemnas once and for all--blown away like a house of cards, all because the slayers that were supposed to help them thought their story didn't hold any water? His mind raced in overdrive as he struggled to piece together a way to convince them that it was true and that they _should _help, but he kept drawing blanks...

By this point, he had quite forgotten about DiZ.

The door clicked open--all heads turned towards it. Demyx heard the man's entrance before he saw him, the swishing of cloak against the carpet...and then DiZ himself appeared, a resplendent figure in flowing red, appearing almost carved from stone. He felt the atmosphere in the room change the instant DiZ stepped in, moving so silently he almost seemed to be weightless. The air seemed to thicken, settling heavily on Demyx's clothes like dust and pressing down on his chest, squeezing until he thought his lungs would burst. He couldn't breathe, could only watch, along with the everyone else, as DiZ reached the center of the room.

Marluxia made a slightly choked noise, as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out. No one else made a sound; they were all too busy watching DiZ. For a long moment, he stood as silent as they did, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes focused on nothing in particular. Out of the corner of his eye Demyx saw Namine meet DiZ's gaze for a moment before quickly ducking her head so her hair hid her face.

When DiZ spoke, it was as if glass had been shattered; his every word dragged sharply at Demyx's heart, with an almost physical sensation. "Ahh...how long has it been...how long...since I have sat on a slayer council..."

"DiZ," said Namine, her voice barely above a whisper.

Axel's throat was convulsing nastily, as if he was trying to make up his mind over what to say: "Geez, could have come earlier, you know!", "Have a seat..whoops, there are none left", "Thanks for interrupting, asshole!" Knowing him, it could have been any of them.

Only Zexion seemed possessed of all of his senses. Quite calmly, he said, "Well? As you can see, we have already begun. Unfortunately, there are...ah...portions to our tale that the others do not believe. Care to correct their misconceptions?" He swept his arm in a dramatic gesture towards the wide-eyed slayers.

"Certainly," said DiZ. He straightened even more, which Demyx had thought impossible. When he spoke again, there was a hard cast to his voice, like iron, that made Demyx--and some of the other slayers--flinch. "I will personally vouch for the truthfulness of their accounts."

Marluxia exploded at that, leaping to his feet and even swinging his scythe towards DiZ. Demyx quickly ducked to avoid getting nicked by the sharp silver-plated blade; it took all his self-control to keep himself from screaming or cursing or both. Xigbar had less self-control and yelled, "Fuck, watch it!"

The pink-haired slayer ignored them, advancing towards DiZ step by step so that the tip of his scythe was tapping against DiZ's chin. Demyx, heart slamming so loud in his chest that he thought it would burst out, wanted to shout a warning, but something about the cloaked man's resolve--he had not retreated even an inch--made him hold his tongue.

"I don't believe you," declared Marluxia, his voice heated with rage. "_You_, Ansem the Wise? You could be anyone under that mask! Anyone pretending to be someone he is not for the sake of--the sake of one vampire's idiotic joke!"

"_Joke?" _Zexion hissed, the pupils of his eyes narrowing. Worry spiked through Demyx's chest; he feared the more feral side of Zexion he was seeing now. If Zexion got up and attacked Marluxia...no, no, he did _not _want to think about that. Somehow, he had to think to preserve the peace, _somehow_...

"Stand down," said DiZ, his eyes harder than stones; they seemed to glow with a terrible light of their own. "I am not lying. And do you believe anyone would go to such lengths for the sake of a _joke? _I do not have to explain myself to the likes of _you."_

Marluxia looked like he was ready to spit back a retort, but he did not speak--in fact, he seemed somewhat intimidated, just as Demyx was, by the ferocious resolve in DiZ's eyes, carved into what was visible of his face. It was not a human resolve, not a human ferocity. In that instant, standing still as a statue, draped in red, gazing at all present with hard eyes, DiZ appeared at his least human. For the first time, Demyx could appreciate that he had infused himself with monstrous blood...

"Tch!" Marluxia spun around and took his seat again, resting his scythe by his side. He turned emphatically away from DiZ; Demyx glanced at him, feeling strangely sorry for the slayer though he couldn't say why. But DiZ had started speaking again.

"The others have already explained my story. You already know that I have spent the past two hundred years trying to gather a force strong enough to destroy the Coven of Thirteen. It has not been easy. I have failed many times. But this time..." He swept his gaze over the assembled group. "This time...I believe that we may have a chance."

"As if," piped up Xigbar. "You probably tell that to _everyone _you recruit!"

Demyx had honestly never thought of that before--and it _was _a good point.

"You are incorrect," said DiZ flatly. "Before, I could only gather rebels and outcasts. But you are all acclaimed and accomplished slayers...all of the highest caliber. And for the first time..." He turned towards Zexion, who stiffened slightly but did not flinch. "For the first time, we have help from inside the coven."

"I am--I am fairly low-ranking--" began Zexion, looking rather flustered.

"Help?" Cloud's eyebrows did a nasty tango. "What'd you do, warm his bed?"

"_No!" _yelled Demyx in an instant. He almost leapt to his feet, but a hand closed around the hem of his suit jacket and dragged him downwards, against his protests. He whirled around, fist raised, ready to deck whoever was holding him back from teaching Cloud a lesson and teaching it _good_--but all his rage subsided when he saw it was Zexion, paler than usual, disapproval shining in his eyes. As he and Demyx locked gazes, the vampire shook his head slowly, once, twice.

"Zexy..." began Demyx, unable to think of anything more coherent to say.

When Zexion spoke, it was not to address Demyx, but Cloud. "Do not be foolish. I cannot...do anything of that sort. I have been warded." He indicated the silver hoop in his ear which Demyx hadn't noticed at first--the delicate skin around it was burned and reddened a rather ugly shade. Sympathy immediately shot through Demyx's veins, and he almost reached out to pat Zexion on the shoulder; Zexion, however, grabbed his hand by the wrist and maneuvered it back down to Demyx's side.

Fine...so he wasn't in a very affectionate mood. Fine by Demyx...especially since they had more important things to worry about now. Such as the _council_...

Cloud still looked as if he wanted very much to stake and then dismember Zexion on the spot, but he didn't say anything more on the subject. It was Leon who spoke next.

"So--what's our plan? How are we going to take down this...Coven of Thirteen?"

"You actually believe them?" said Cloud.

Leon shrugged. "I don't see why anyone would lie about something so important. Until there's evidence to the contrary, I'll believe them."

"So," said Axel loudly, though he couldn't hide his satisfaction that they'd gotten at least one person on their side. "How're we going to go about defeating Xemnas? Anyone got any suggestions?"

Everyone was hesitant at first, but then slowly, one by one, began to speak, until their voices melded together into a rising flurry, so loud that Demyx could barely hear his own thoughts. Ideas were exchanged, some facetious--such as Xigbar's suggestion they drop a ton of nukes on the Coven of Thirteen headquarters--and others more serious, such as Cloud suggesting they ambush Xemnas. Zexion pointed out the impossibility of performing such a task, since Xemnas was always surrounded by his followers, especially that _werewolf_ (he spat out the word with the foulness of a swear); Leon pointed out that he could dispatch of werewolves any day; Axel noted that there weren't just werewolves but vampires too; Roxas interjected that Xemnas was just too strong and nothing they could do could beat him; Demyx nodded vigorously to this, stating that he and Axel had shot Xemnas through enough times to have pulverized a human, but the vampire had remained standing.

"Basically," said Marluxia, "everything centers around Xemnas, correct? If we eliminate him, the rest of the coven should follow."

"That would be the wisest course of action," said Zexion, raising an eyebrow, "if it were possible to defeat Xemnas in the first place."

"Aww, come on, he's only one vampire," said Xigbar. "How tough could he be?"

Against his will, Demyx found himself remembering how he and Axel had been shooting and shooting at Xemnas, shooting until his fingers went numb and he ran out of ammo, yet the vampire continued advancing towards them, stumbling through a puddle of his own blood, a vile smirk slashing his face in two...

To Demyx's surprise, Roxas spoke up. "He _is _tough. Don't underestimate him."

"So it appears," said DiZ, "that we know what we _must _do--defeat Xemnas--but we do not have the means to accomplish it."

That sounded about right; Demyx nodded his assent. Axel said, bitingly, "So, got any suggestions, old man?"

DiZ said nothing, clearly meaning he _didn't _have any suggestions. An awkward silence descended over the group; Demyx shifted nervously, wanting to break it, but he had no idea what to say because he had no suggestions either. How _could _they fight against a creature as powerful as Xemnas? He turned slightly to glance at Zexion, who appeared similarly affected: the incubus had become even paler than usual, and had clasped his fingers tightly in his lap. Demyx had half a mind to reach out and squeeze Zexion encouragingly on the shoulder; but he remembered that Zexion was ignoring all of his affections now. Rather sourly, he turned away from the vampire.

"He can't be defeated by just attacking him," said Namine, her quiet voice ringing through the room; everyone turned to her. She flushed a bit under their combined scrutiny, but when she continued her voice remained steady and strong. "You can--you can fill him with as many bullets as you'd like, but he'll barely feel it."

Demyx wondered how Namine would know--but then remembered that her parents had been killed by a vampire. Wait...was that vampire--?

"So you're basically saying there's no hope of winning," said Cloud sharply.

"No one is saying that," said DiZ. "All I am saying is that we must formulate a plan..."

"We've already been here all evening," protested Cloud.

"Then we will spend longer if we must," said DiZ harshly. "This late in my plans, I am not in a hurry. It does not matter to me whether we defeat Xemnas today or a week or even a month from now--so long as it _does _get done."

_Yeah, right! _thought Demyx darkly. _Weren't you the one who was _so _eager to defeat Xemnas that you pretty much _forced _us all to help you? Nice lying there!_

"So it's clear," said Leon. "We need to spend more time planning this attack. Researching everything we can on our enemy, figuring out ways to outsmart him if it really is impossible to beat him in a standard fight. Testing out different scenarios."

Axel nodded. "Sounds good to me, got it memorized?"

"Yes," said Zexion, his voice quiet but strained. "We will need some more time...though we cannot dally forever. There are some of us who have bounties on our heads, and the sooner we take down the one who set those bounties, the easier it will be for us to feel secure."

"Some of us?" Axel snorted. "You just mean _you."_

Demyx opened his mouth to say something defending Zexion, but the others had begun speaking over him, mostly agreeing to what Leon was saying, though Cloud still looked skeptical and DiZ looked a little disappointed--though he was the one who'd suggested it in the first place, it was plain he'd rather his revenge come as soon as possible.

In the middle of all the talk about when they'd hold the meetings and what they should discuss, Marluxia suddenly cleared his throat with a rather loud, nasty unsticking sound. Everyone whirled in his direction.

"Yeah, what is it?" said Xigbar, sounding a bit disgruntled because he'd been interrupted as he detailed an extensive schedule for their meetings.

"Well..." said Marluxia, drawing himself up haughtily--any more haughty and he'd be sticking his pinky out while taking a sip from a cup of tea. "Have you all forgotten...about the Slayer Society Ball?"

"Huh? What's that?" said Demyx, confusion spiking inside him. He envisioned an enormous volleyball plated with silver, which was the Slayer Society's ultimate wepaon...but that clearly couldn't be right.

Leon seemed equally as confused. "What are you talking about?"

The others, excepting Zexion and Roxas, seemed to understand, however. Axel and Xigbar laughed out loud, while Cloud said bitingly, "Don't we have more important things to worry about?", and DiZ said, sounding incongruously delighted, "So they're still holding it, are they?"

"Excuse me? What is this...'ball'?" demanded Zexion, his eyebrow twitching. "And what does this have to do with any of us?"

Axel dove to the explanation rescue, probably just so he'd have an opportunity to say his catch phrase. "It's a formal ball held every year by the Slayer Society, about this time of the year, I'd say--"

"It's in a month," said Marluxia sourly.

"That's right," said Axel. "_Every _top-notch slayer goes. It's really quite prestigious--if you don't show up everyone assumes the worst of you and you'll be ostracized like one two three, got it memorized?"

"And seeing as all of you are top-notch slayers..." began DiZ, a strange revelatory light entering his eye.

"Hold on--" Zexion stood up, shaking in fury, fixing Axel with a ferocious, near feral, glare. "Are you saying that you would be willing to put our plans on hold--all for the sake of a _ball?"  
_

Axel looked ready to spit back a retort, but Marluxia spoke first, becoming haughtier with every word. "It's no laughing matter, incubus. This is slayer _tradition, _so we must attend. That's why I am saying that we must schedule our meetings around the upcoming ball. We can't embark before it--"

"So if we want to defeat this Xemnas as soon as possible," cut in Cloud, "we should do it shortly after the ball."

A scowl crosed Zexion's face, twisting it quite unpleasantly; he folded his arms and glared at all the assembled slayers, but took his seat again. It was clear, though, that he was twitching with impatience--but strangely Demyx couldn't sympathize. He felt a strange sense of relief, above all--going to a dance right before taking down the Coven of Thirteen seemed a nice way to blow off steam, something almost _normal _after all the insane shit that had been happening to them....assuming they'd be allowed to go, of course.

Roxas voiced this thought exactly. "Wait...um...would...would _we _be allowed to go?" He swept his arm out in a half-hearted gesture that was meant to encompass him, Namine, Zexion, and Demyx.

"Huh?" Axel blinked, uncomprehending, at him for a moment--but then his expression softened and a smile spread across his face. Demyx had to fight against a pang of jealousy that rose inside him; Axel had _never _smiled like that at him before...

"Aww, come on, Rox," laughed Axel, thumping Roxas rather hard on the shoulder. "What, you think you _wouldn't _be allowed to go? Every slayer attend is allowed to take guests, got it memorized?"

Roxas, for some reason, flushed bright red and ducked his head. "Er...yeah...thanks, Axel."

While Axel had been speaking, Leon and Cloud had been exchanging strange, unreadable glances, both looking rather awkward. Demyx wondered what their damage was, but diverted his attention from them to Zexion, the only one who did not seem pleased at the news of the slayer ball. His arms were folded, his shoulders held stiffly, and he was biting his lower lip while glaring at all assembled through a narrowed dark blue eye.

_Don't be so impatient, Zexy, _Demyx wanted to say, but the words wouldn't leave his throat. Truth be told...he had the feeling that if he tried reasoning with Zexion at the moment, he'd get his head bitten off. And perhaps even literally...

Everyone else was ignoring the moody incubus, however; they'd descended into cheerful, light-hearted conversation together--Xigbar and Marluxia had even resumed their debate about which team deserved to win the World Series. Demyx sank against his chair, rubbing his forehead. He knew there'd be more slayer councils in the future, but for now...he'd had quite enough of debate and planning and wearing a tie. It was about time to go to sleep...

"Very well then," said DiZ, "the slayer council is adjourned."

* * *

Meh...yeah. After the emotional high of the previous chapter, this one does kind of fall flat...I blame that on the sheer amount of "talky-talky" scenes involved. Writing conversations between so many people while trying to keep the chapter a manageable length is a massive headache...*sigh*

The next chapter will be much more exciting! We finally get a breakthrough as to how to defeat Xemnas, and it's an important chapter relationship-wise as well (especialy for Zexy and Demyx). Plus, given its title "Ball", it's the perfect setting for making and/or breaking relationships. Here's a preview to whet your interest:

_Truthfully, over the past month, Demyx's relationship with Zexion had been a bit more...distant...than he'd have liked. They'd been keeping away from each other by a mutual, unspoken agreement, even taking to separate rooms and doing little more than exchanging cordial greetings and discussions during the councils. He wished he could do something to remedy the situation, but he quailed even at the thought of where to start. There was just so much--so many snares and flaming hoops between them. They'd both wronged each other, he knew that; both had wronged each other badly and he wasn't sure who was more to blame. Zexion, for sleeping around? Demyx, for wanting Zexion to give up what made him a vampire? He just didn't know, didn't know what to do, how to go about reconciling with the incubus. So he let the gaping distance between the two of them remain, no matter how much he despised it, no matter how much he longed to cross it. To return the two of them back to the way they'd used to be..._

Not an optimistic prognosis...but we'll see if the two do manage to patch it up when I finally come around to updating.

Thanks again for all the reviews, and thank you all so, so, _so _very much for helping me make it past 300 reviews. This is my first piece on this site to have that sort of reception and it's just overwhelming to me, honestly. And it would never have happened without all of you. ^^ Keep it up with the great feedback.

Also, if you're impatient over the long waits between each chapter, and want to check out more of my writing, you might be interested in **The Chrysalis Project**. It's a series of stories set in an original universe of mine, on fictionpress, under the username **Bickazer**. Look at my profile for more information. ^^


	26. Ball

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_26. Ball_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness, Axel being a fucking bastard, blasphemy

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: HOLY UPDATE BATMAN!!!

And just when you all thought I was dead.

Note that I have sworn off all fanfiction except for this one, because I couldn't in good conscience leave all my wonderful readers hanging. Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to this story; it's the first time any story of mine has ever received that kind of response. And you, my wonderful readers and reviewers, are the ones who made that happen. Thank you. *bows*

However, if you read my profile you'll see why I've decided to never update my fanfiction account again after this. I may still read fanfiction, but I won't write much of it. Suffice to say that I think I've outgrown this. I am _very _active on my fictionpress, **Bickazer**, especially when it comes to my story **Most Perfect Servant **(which has strong master/slave themes, perhaps that will appeal to you).

Speaking on this chapter, I'm none too fond of the start, but I love the "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" scene. Yes, Demyx sings "Can't Take My Eyes Off You." Lyric-wise I was going off the Muse version, which is my favorite (speaking of Muse, I've been fangirling to _The Resistance _for a very long time and damn is it not an awesome album. "Undisclosed Desires" I feels works very well for Demyx's feelings for Zexion in this story). I hope that doesn't make this story a songfic; I guess I could maybe make a song-free version, but that'd kind of destroy this chapter because the song is so pivotal in it.

Really, the end of the chapter was completely unlike what I'd initially planned, but I like this version much better than my plans.

* * *

Leon slammed shut the heavy encyclopedia he'd been perusing, loud enough to snap everyone's attention towards him. "This 'Cross of the Kingdom.' Tell us about it."

"W-well, I dunno, the book said it might just be a legend--" Demyx began, rubbing the back of his head. He felt terribly awkward, standing in the front of the study with a falling-apart history tome tucked under one arm and everyone else staring at him with owl eyes. Just like a student unprepared for a presentation.

"It is not a legend," DiZ, a silent red-cloaked figure in the corner, rumbled. "I happened to glimpse it myself during a trip to the Vatican."

"Hey, if you know about this thing, why don't _you _explain it? No need to put Demyx in front of the firing squad," Axel said, gesturing wildly at DiZ and accidentally knocking over a half-empty can of Mountain Dew on the desk. "Oh _shit!" _he shouted as bright yellow liquid gurgled all over the expensive Oriental carpet.

"Leave it," DiZ said as several people, Demyx included, made to drop down and clean it up. Demyx thought cynically that when you were as filthy rich as DiZ, obviously a stain in the carpet was nothing.

"Someone move all this shit, please," Axel snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the desk, which was heaped with junk food of all sorts: industrial-sized bags of chips and Cheetos (no, Demyx did not count Cheetos as chips), two-liters and twelve-packs of sodas and energy drinks of all colors and levels of caffeine, a leaking coffee machine, boxes of movie candy, trays of Oreos, and for some reason enormous sacks of candy corn that everyone had stopped eating from after the first day (when several of the more enthusiastic eaters had ended the day vomiting orange-white-yellow sugary goop). By this time Demyx felt like he would gladly spend the rest of his days eating tofu and collard greens if it meant he'd never have to see a single piece of junk food again.

And it made him quite glad that he'd never gone to college--judging by the way the others talked, binging on junk food while "studying" (if you could call what they were doing "studying") was either a fond or hated memory from college.

"Why don't _you _obtain a little bit of self-control?" Zexion said more snappishly than he was usually given to.

Axel's cough sounded a lot like "hypocrite!"

Demyx sighed uncomfortably inside, almost finding himself wishing that everyone's attention would return to _him _again. He became uncomfortable every time anyone focused on Zexion overly long, perhaps because it reminded him that he was trying his darnedest _not _to. Great attitude to have towards the one who he was supposed to be in a relationship with, but...

Truthfully, over the past month, Demyx's relationship with Zexion had been a bit more...distant...than he'd have liked. They'd been keeping away from each other by a mutual, unspoken agreement, even taking to separate rooms and doing little more than exchanging cordial greetings and discussions during the councils. He wished he could do something to remedy the situation, but he quailed even at the thought of where to start. There was just so much--so many snares and flaming hoops between them. They'd both wronged each other, he knew that; both had wronged each other badly and he wasn't sure who was more to blame. Zexion, for sleeping around? Demyx, for wanting Zexion to give up what made him a vampire? He just didn't know, didn't know what to do, how to go about reconciling with the incubus. So he let the gaping distance between the two of them remain, no matter how much he despised it, no matter how much he longed to cross it. To return the two of them back to the way they'd used to be...

Someone coughed. Demyx realized it was Marluxia; the pink-haired slayer had "spoken" for all of his comrades, judging by the expectant looks with which they were all fixing him.

"Erm...okay." Demyx cleared his throat. "Ummm...err...uh. Yeah. Uhh...this Cross of the Kingdom, I found it in, um, this book. Let's see, this is called, _A Compendium of the History of Papal-sponsored Vampire Slaying, 1100's-to-1400's_--"

"We do _not _need to know the title of the book," Marluxia said.

"Uh--right! Yeah." Demyx's face burned even hotter. Why the hell was he doing this in the first place, instead of someone who actually _knew _what he was talking about? Like all of the other _real _slayers in the room!

But he was the one who'd come across the tidbit in the first place, only three days before the ball: a paragraph near the end of the book that mentioned a special vampire-slaying weapon that was said to be the most powerful in the world...

"Why don't _ya _explain, Mr. Red? I mean, y'actually know about this thing," Xigbar said lazily. "Mr. Red" being his name for DiZ--he'd ended up nicknaming everyone during their month of sweating and researching together. Most did not appreciate their nicknames, especially not "Mullet" (that is, Demyx) and "Pet" (Zexion).

"That is true..." DiZ said in his "but-I-don't-really-feel-like-it" tone. Which wasn't much different at all from his usual tone. "However, it has been quite some time since I last saw it. Such a long time, in fact, that it escaped my memory entirely."

"Maybe you're just getting senile," Cloud suggested.

"I will allow that too," DiZ said, almost cheerfully.

"Can we get back to business?" Leon, who seemed the only one not caffeinated into a state of near-ADD-ness (which didn't make sense since _he'd _been chugging energy drinks and DiZ and Zexion had not), had taken on the role of group leader. Or perhaps babysitter.

"Yeah! Yeah," Demyx said all too quickly. "Anyway. This Cross of the Kingdom. The book says that it's, it's a giant cross that the Catholic Church forged way back when. They made it to deal with the really powerful vampires that started showing up around that time...the early Renaissance or whatever. They say it's supposed to be five feet tall and forged of the purest silver, and tipped with a razor-sharp point. Though again I'm not sure 'cause the book acts like it's just a legend..."

"Sounds badass," said Axel appreciatively.

"If it even exists," Cloud said.

"I am inclined to agree," Zexion said. "Such a thing sounds preposterous and quite unwieldy to boot. A cross that size, made of pure silver...no one would be strong enough to carry it. If it was ever made at all, I doubt it ever saw any real combat. Most likely it was used to frighten away weak vampires."

"Like you," Axel shot back.

"No doubt...only the strongest vampires could survive being near so much concentrated silver. But you could say the exact same thing about a silver mine. There's nothing particularly special about this Cross of the Kingdom."

"It's badass," said Xigbar, echoing Axel's assessment.

"This isn't a _video game," _Marluxia said snippily. "It doesn't matter how impressive something looks. I agree with Strife and the incubus. This weapon seems patently useless."

"Yeah, I guess," Demyx sighed, trying not to feel like a kid who'd just gotten an F on a school project he'd put a lot of time and effort into. "The book said it was just a legend, anyway..."

"It's still our best chance," Leon said evenly.

"And it does exist," DiZ said. "I assure you it is not a fiction. Such a weapon...it would be immeasurably powerful against a higher vampire--perhaps even one as powerful as Xemnas. We are speaking of, essentially, a five-foot stake forged of the finest silver, and imbued with powerful blessings and spells."

"But--that's what I don't understand," Namine said. "If there really is a weapon that powerful, and the Catholic Church has it, how come we've never heard of it?"

"The book, it says that the Vatican's been covering up the Cross's existence, so it doesn't fall into the hands of their enemies, or something," Demyx said.

"Conspiracy theories much?" Axel said, raising an eyebrow.

"How...deplorable." DiZ shook his head in anger. "Vampire slayers are _supposed _to be united in a common mission...we should have buried all of our rivalries long ago."

"Well, isn't _that _ironic," said Zexion with what Demyx imagined was a smirk. "You would expect slayers to be united and vampires to be always at each others' throats, but in truth it's quite the opposite, isn't it?"

He sounded so smug that Demyx wondered why DiZ didn't just deck him right them. No, he should be thinking these things about the one he...he...

_Not love, _he told himself angrily. _I can't say that, not in good faith._

Everyone else had more important things to focus on than Demyx's tormented feelings. They were all talking at once now, though Namine and Roxas (as usual) were staying out of matters, sitting behind the junk-food table and watching wide-eyed.

"--this is nonsense, as if we'd really believe it--"

"Yeah, like I said, it's all some shitty conspiracy theory, just like those people who think that Da Vinci Code shit is actually real--"

"A conspiracy theory that appeared in a book that old? Doesn't seem likely to me."

"You don't know, but vampire slayers like to make things up to sound impressive..."

"I know that, werewolf hunters do the same, but I don't think we should dismiss from the outset--"

"I saw it. Is it real. I know this."

"As if!"

"Then go _get _it for us, old man!"

"I don't see why _you _cannot. You are the scion of a prestigious family that has historically had ties to the Church--"

"Aww, fuck, the Vatican doesn't want me back after what I did to that cardinal..."

"I cannot just saunter into Vatican City--remember that I am supposed to be _dead_--"

"Seems t'me this'd be a good time to stop playing dead, huh?"

"Now _what _did you do to that cardinal? Pray tell, I'm very curious."

"It's none of your fucking business! I bet _you've _been up to some pretty shady business with cardinals yourself--"

"No, I don't quite find churchmen appealing--their blood is so very bland--"

"Whoa! Whoawhoawhoawhoa." Demyx figured this was a good time to bring this conversation (more like two dueling conversations) to an end, so he stepped forward and held his hands out. "Okay, okay. That's enough. So what's our plan? We gotta come up with a plan, y'know."

"We need this Cross of the Kingdom," began Leon.

"If it's real," Cloud added grouchily.

"_Assuming _it's real," Leon said, looking very much like he wanted to facepalm. "Then the question is, how do we get it, and fast enough? The ball is in three days. We need to be able to obtain the Cross of the Kingdom in that time..."

"Impossible," Marluxia declared. "The Vatican prefers to perform its slaying work autonomously, without interference from the slaying families. And if this cross really exists and they've been covering it up for centuries...I don't see them easily parting with it. Granted, if it exists."

"It _does _exist," DiZ almost growled--he seemed quite ticked off by how everyone was qualifying their claims with "ifs" and "assumings." "I can assure you that. You do bring up a valid point, however. They will not be so willing to let it go..and I doubt they would accept the explanation of the Coven of Thirteen."

Xigbar spoke for them all. "Pain in the ass."

Demyx couldn't agree more. His heart, already feeling very heavy from everyone's bashing of _his _research, sank even further. It would come to nothing...they'd lose their chance to destroy Xemnas quickly enough.

"A_hem." _Zexion cleared his throat with a surprisingly loud noise. Every whirled towards him in alarm; he'd perched on the edge of the table (shoving the snacks even further back), and was crossing his legs, surveying the scene with a look of haughty boredom. Roxas and Kairi, behind him, were both looking very disconcerted.

"Yeah? Speak up if you've got anything worthwhile to say," said Axel, clearly looking like he didn't think Zexion had anything worthwhile to say.

"Aren't you all forgetting something...?" Zexion said. "Something crucial?"

_Drop the condescending act, why don't you? _Demyx thought furiously.

"Enlighten us," DiZ said, his voice flat and tight.

"Namely," Zexion said, arching his visible eyebrow, "you are Ansem the Wise. You were renowned in the slaying community--even by the Vatican, I'm sure. Granted, everyone believes that you are dead, but that would only give you even more leverage, if you think about it. A dead man returning--and a dead man who so happens to be Ansem the Wise. Wouldn't they _have _to at least give you the time of day?"

"Assuming they don't through him in prison or the madhouse on the spot," Axel said.

"Then someone should go with him," suggested Leon. "Someone who they trust--someone they'd be forced to believe if he vouched for DiZ."

"Not me," Axel said instantly.

"Yes, of course not you, whatever you did to that cardinal," Zexion said. "You know, you can't keep me in suspense forever."

"Go to hell!" Axel shouted back, very maturely. Group-leader Leon coughed.

"Not me," said Xigbar. "Y'know, a long time back when I was a boy, I sorta had this thing for Catholic schoolgirls--"

"We don't need to hear that," Leon said quickly. "Cloud?"

Cloud shrugged. "Whatever."

"Then we will go," Marluxia said, gesturing towards him and Cloud. "Since it seems like we are the only ones who _haven't _done anything offensive against the church."

"Oh, I don't know, Marly," snickered Axel. "That cologne of yours is pretty offensive."

"Excuse me?" Marluxia's voice could freeze fires.

"It's settled, then," DiZ said, cutting in before anyone could argue further (and over something so _stupid_). "Marluxia, Cloud, and I will leave for the Vatican as soon as possible. We will be back within three days--and with the Cross of the Kingdom in our possession."

Xigbar whistled. "Tall order, dude."

"We will," DiZ said, glancing around the room, looking surprisingly resplendent--it seemed every time Demyx started dismissing DiZ as a senile old man with revenge fantasies, DiZ would then do something that was actually impressive and turn Demyx's opinion of him completely around. Cloaked in red, hands clasped, radiating an aura of quiet fortitude, Demyx had to admit that he could almost _admire _DiZ.

"Then it's settled," Leon said. "Where's the computer again--you had a laptop, Xigbar, where did you put it?"

"Hmm, figure it's under this shit--" Xigbar began clawing his way through the colorful sacks and boxes of junk food covering the table like the ruins of a collapsed building.

"Right here." Roxas yanked something black and shiny from beneath a teetering pile of Cheeto bags. Without anything to support them, they toppled over, spilling a rain of fluoresecent orange...not-chips.

"Thanks, Tiger!" Xigbar said as he snatched the laptop from Roxas, flipping it open in one deft motion. "All right then, plane tickets y'want--"

"That will not be necessary," DiZ cut in smoothly. He stepped forward and held his arm out to stop them--a little theatrical, Demyx thought, but DiZ was nothing if not theatrical.

But then, astonishing Demyx and everyone else in the room, something--something _appeared _in front of DiZ's outstretched hand. A body-length oval of crackling dark light, so dark that it seemed to drain away the light and color in the room itself...

It was the same sort of darkness that had been pouring from DiZ, washing over the plaza, that fateful night.

Axel spoke for everyone. "_Holy shit."_

When DiZ spoke, he sounded almost amused, in the most macabre way possible. "I have imbued myself with many different kinds of powers. That includes being able to travel instantaneously from one location to another. Come."

Marluxia and Cloud followed slowly after him, both looking rather tentative. Demyx thought he saw Leon touch Cloud on the shoulder in a reassuring gesture, but Cloud quickly shook off Leon's touch and marched forward, pale-faced but resolute. Marluxia followed as slowly as was polite.

"Rome is on the other side of this?" Cloud said doubtfully, staring into the dark ovoid.

"Yes. I believe I have opened a portal in front of St. Peter's Basilica," said DiZ. Holy shit, he _was _amused. Demyx thought about DiZ's creepy laugh and decided that an amused DiZ was even worse than a regular DiZ.

"Let's just go," said Marluxia, sounding very much like he wanted to add "harrumph!" to that too.

DiZ nodded, and then stepped through, vanishing completely through the portal; Demyx bit back a startled scream. Cloud and Marluxia stared blankly after him, before exchanging glances and then following, both looking like men preparing to face a firing squad.

The portal closed with a crackle of black light after they had stepped through. For the longest time, the remaining people in the room stared at the spot where it had vanished, silent in shared astonishment. Only Namine seemed somewhat calm, probably because she'd already seen this plenty of times before.

"He doesn't do it often," she said. "He won't let it show, but it does put a great strain on him..."

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Axel blasphemed. "If he could do that before, why didn't he _do _that? Instead of, y'know, driving us to the manor in that fucking Rolls-Royce?"

Demyx found to his surprise that he had a glib answer on hand. "Well, isn't it obvious?" he said. "DiZ is like any other filthy rich man. He won't resist a chance to show off his cars."

Zexion snickered behind his hand like a noblewoman; strangely, that little laugh raised Demyx's spirits more than anything else in the past month. It was stupid, really, and he'd made a stupid joke, but...but somehow he felt it was the beginning of their reconciliation. Just baby steps, maybe. But the thought was there.

* * *

Demyx was itching to see the Cross of the Kingdom. DiZ, Cloud, and Marluxia had returned on the morning of the ball, but hadn't let anyone see the cross yet; they made oblique references to needing to restore it somewhat. He suppposed that meant it was probably tarnished too badly to look impressive, or, in Axel and Xigbar's words, "badass."

The Slayer Society Ball would be taking place tonight, of course--in less than an hour. And here he was, standing in front of the mirror in his room and feeling like a genuine idiot. What the hell was up with vampire slaying and the need to dress up? He'd never even _owned _a tux before, but now he was standing in front of the mirror in his room, struggling with his bow tie.

Once again, he could think of nothing but how _horrible _he looked. With his hair slicked back in nasty clumps and dressed in a rented black tuxedo with a dark blue waistcoat, he thought he looked like nothing more than a drunkard attempting to crash a wedding. His collar was chafing at his neck and he was quite sure he'd missed a button on his waistcoat and he couldn't figure out the damn bow tie! He should have just gotten a clip-on, he thought darkly.

Worse was the matter of who he was going to go with--he had yet to figure that out. All the other slayers had quickly chosen partners--Marluxia with Larxene, Cloud with Leon, Xigbar with two women who he claimed were models but Demyx rather thought were escorts, and Axel with Roxas.

He supposed the most logical choice would be Zexion, but...

But how could he? Not after everything that had happened. Going with Zexion would imply some sort of...relationship. Which he was quite sure they didn't have anymore.

A knock came from the door. "Just a _minute!" _he yelled. "After I figure out this goddamned tie--"

The door swung open soundlessly, and a slim figure glided inside. "Why am I not surprised? You're always having wardrobe difficulties."

The breath stopped in Demyx's throat. He knew who it was in an instant--not just because he recognized the voice, but because though he'd heard someone entered, he saw no one reflected behind him in the mirror. In a way, it was quite chilling, reminding him that Zexion wasn't human. As if he needed any more reminders of _that, _though!

Yet in another way, it was comforting. It reminded him of the first time he and Zexion had spoken, how they had sat together in front of an unmoving pool, in which Demyx had been the only one reflected.

He turned around slowly.

Zexion stood in the doorway, his arms folded and gazing inquisitively at Demyx. And Demyx wouldn't lie about it: he was _beautiful. _Of course Zexion was the type to look beautiful in anything, no matter how ragged it was or how messed up his hair, but all dressed up...he looked even better. Like the seductive creature of the night he really was. He too had slicked his hair back, though much more neatly than Demyx had; without the messy fringe in his face, his cheekbones appeared sharper, and his chin more pronounced, making him look at once older and more exotic. His tuxedo was cut in almost the same way as Demyx's, but it didn't look awkward on him in the slightest, and the black of the cloth only accented his snowy pallor. His waistcoat was deep purple, his bow tie the same, and he had pinned a violet in his buttonhole.

As he moved closer, Demyx noticed that his face looked a little..._different. _He couldn't pin it down at first; it seemed that Zexion's eyes were more narrower and more predatory than usual, yet held a hooded and seductive quality that Demyx was sure hadn't been there before. When Zexion stopped right in front of him, Demyx saw with a jolt of pleasant surprise that the incubus was wearing eyeliner and mascara; not so much that it was immediately obvious, but enough to alter his appearance in a way that was slightly unsettling yet appealing.

"You look great." As usual, Demyx couldn't stop his motor-mouth from moving. Zexion's beautiful face contorted into a scowl.

"And as usual, _you _look hideous. One of these days I am going to teach you how to actually dress."

His hands flew up to the front of Demyx's tux, and began expertly knotting the bow tie; Demyx shivered slightly when he felt the vampire's icy skin brush against him. It'd been so long since he and Zexion so much had _touched_...

Zexion finished yanking on the bow tie, pulling it tighter than Demyx thought necesary. He then attacked Demyx's waistcoat with just as much gusto, redoing the buttons so they properly aligned and then smoothed out the somewhat wrinkled front. It was all Demyx could do to keep from squirming away from Zexion's discomfitingly cold touch.

"There. You're halfway presentable now," Zexion said. "I suppose I can't do a thing about that hair, unfortunately, we're rather pressed on time...now let's go."

He held out an elegant pale hand to an astonished Demyx, who stared at it for the longest time, his mind racing. He'd thought that Zexion would want nothing to do with him, especially after the way he'd chewed Demyx out about applying human standards to him...and Zexion had been avoiding him too. He'd thought, by all means, that it was over.

"Zexy?" he whispered, aware of a sudden painful lump in his throat. "You wouldn't--you really would--"

"Hurry up," Zexion snapped.

"No, you're--are you saying that--you wanna go with me?" Demyx said.

Zexion jerked his shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. "Well, I don't have anyone else to go with, do I?"

Ah. Of course, that was it. The always-logical Zexion chose out of necessity, not because there was any real feeling to it...

_But there is! _Demyx thought fiercely. _Maybe not on your side, but for me? Hell yes, oh hell yes. I can't deny it--I _do _feel something for you. Maybe you don't feel the same way, but I...then it's up to me to..._

Zexion shoved his hand in Demyx's face again, looking bored and impatient. "Please do hurry. We are going to be late."

"Okay, okay!" Demyx quickly slipped his hand into Zexion's, bracing against the iciness of the incubus' skin. In fact, his first initial urge was to let go, but he fought it like a demon, forcing himself to tighten his grip so that all he could feel was the silky softness of Zexion's skin, so cold and light he felt like he was barely holding anything.

"Tch, what are you trying to do?" Zexion snapped. "Don't squeeze so tightly."

"Sorry," Demyx said. He loosened his grip slightly, feeling a little more natural now. He'd done this many times before...he coud start seeing Zexion as _Zexion _now, instead of a vampire with skin of ice. That was right. Zexion would never hurt him. He was safe.

"C'mon, Zexy," he said, leading Zexion towards the door. "Let's go."

* * *

The ball was taking place in a cavernous room on the ground floor of one of the ritziest hotels in the city. It was easily the grandest place Demyx had ever seen in his life, a dazzling and disorienting blend of sights and sounds and sensations: coral marble floor polished so brightly he saw his own reflection, chandeliers of flashing gold and crystal, wine glasses clinking, liquid notes from the piano, men and women spinning across the floor in clouds of perfume, billowing dresses, and tailored suits.

This was a completely different world, even from Axel's parties, which had the veneer of upper-class sophistication but inevitably dissolved into drunken fests. All this self-conscious elegance...it made Demyx's head hurt.

He glanced around the ballroom, searching for a few familiar faces to better anchor himself. He saw Axel's distinctive red spikes easily enough; the older slayer was standing with Roxas by a refreshment table, helping himself and Roxas to more appetizers than was polite. Well, didn't _they _look happy... He saw a flash of pink and yellow close to him, and saw Marluxia and Larxene spinning past, Marluxia dressed in as much pink as he had been the first time Demyx saw him, Larxene in a powder blue dress that did not leave much to the imagination. Both looked quite bored.

Further in the crowd, he saw Cloud and Leon; neither were dancing, but glaring around and looking as bored and Marluxia and Larxene, though that didn't stop them from helping themselves to champagne glasses from the champagne pyramid. Xigbar was somewhere further away, both of his girls hanging off his arms while he grinned contendedly. Probably he'd had too much wine.

He thought he glimpsed the banker Luxord on his lonesome in the crowd, but then the billowing dresses and penguin suits shifted and the bearded man was no longer there. He'd just been imagining things...

Already, he was starting to feel this ball was a massive waste of time. They should be back in the manor with DiZ and Namine, planning their assault on the Coven of Thirteen, not _here!_

"Why don't you dance?" whispered a low voice in his ear. Demyx blinked, startled; Zexion had been remaining silent and fairly still since the evening began, merely following Demyx wherever he went like a shadow.

"I can't," Demyx said. "I'd bump into people."

"Of course," Zexion said with a snicker. Demyx pounded him on the shoulder.

"Hey, you're not being fair. I don't think you can dance, can you?"

"I don't need to. And that hurt."

"Sorry. And I don't need to dance, either."

"So what are we doing here again?"

Demyx swept his eyes around the ballroom, taking in the glittering chandeliers and the chattering party-goers, and wondered the same thing.

"Come on," he said, snatching Zexion by the wrist. Zexion stared at him, alarmed.

"What?"

"Let's go," Demyx said, gesturing towards the ballroom door, which led to the hotel's expansive courtyard. "You want some fresh air, too, don't you? And away from these people."

He waved his hand vaguely towards the crowd, but sure enough at least two people were staring at him and Zexion--some were even glaring. People had been staring and glaring all evening, shocked that a vampire slayer would take an _incubus _of all things as his date. Demyx had quickly grown tired of their mingled curiosity and hostility, though only one of them, a fairly drunken old man, had accosted them and ranted to them about destroying the natural order of things. Now _that _had been unpleasant. Though thankfully the old man was an inattentive drunk and soon drifted off for another glass of wine.

"Yes," Zexion said. "I would like to get away."

"Then let's go." With that, Demyx turned around and led Zexion behind him through the glass double doors and into the courtyard.

* * *

The dark was soft and comforting after the harsh brightness of the ballroom. No, artificial lights wouldn't hurt a vampire, but they could be quite irritating; certainly Zexion had found it almost impossible to think when under assault by the overbearing light. Otherwise he would have come up with a sharp retort for that old drunk instead of just standing there silently and taking it.

The hotel courtyard reminded him somewhat of Axel's villa's, though it was much wider and open and had more greenery (and better taste in statues--no naked cherubs here). He and Demyx were walking through a shady arbor that cut through the center of the courtyard, their steps echoing on the flagstones. The night air whispered cool and gentle on his skin, carressing him like a lover; though the sky was blocked by the interlocking treetops, he could still feel the silky pale touch of the moon and stars, so unlike the blazing ferocity of the indoor chandeliers. Somewhere in the distance, a fountain gurgled agreeably.

And the scents...the rich earthy smell of green growing things, the heavy dark scent that he could only properly describe as that of the nighttime, and...and Demyx. Demyx's gentle presence of ocean breeze and sea salt.

He allowed a slight smile to cross his face. Here he was in the night. His element.

Soon they cleared the arbor, arriving in an even wider and more open courtyard than the first one. It was dominated by a wide square pool dotted with lily pads; an occasional flash of orange suggested the presence of fish. Situated directly in front of the pool was a low stone bench.

Demyx glanced at the bench, and then at Zexion, his bright blue eyes full of meaning. Zexion caught on in an instant, and lowered his head in a brief nod.

With a little laugh that shattered the sanctity of the night, Demyx plopped down on the bench. He patted the stone beside him, indicating that Zexion should have a seat. Zexion gracefully slid beside Demyx, though he tried not to look at the slayer.

They sat in front of the pool in silence, gazing at their reflections--or in Zexion's case, his lack thereof. He felt a strane sense of deja vu; this was very much like the first time they'd spoken, when Demyx had displayed disarming kindness to him, which he had repayed by trying to turn him...

That felt so long ago. From another lifetime. Now, though they were separated only by a few inches, he felt that a chasm no one could span yawned between them. Demyx was being friendly to him, that was true, but the connection he'd felt they had was gone. The connection that had led him to travel all the way north and then defy his Superior...

Worry curled up like a snake in his heart. Had he done everything for _nothing? _For an emotion brief and fleeting as a sunny day in February? And to think he still prided himself for his logic.

"Y'know..." Demyx said, breaking the tense silence in which they'd been engaging. "This is a lot like...that first time, isn't it? The first time you and me talked..."

"Yes," Zexion said.

"I remember. You tried to eat me...I wonder, would you try doing that now?"

"Excuse me?" Zexion frowned at Demyx, trying not to betray his alarm. "Of course I wouldn't."

"Why is that?" Demyx was smiling, but there was a bitter and mature quality to it that he'd never seen from the usually so sunny slayer before. "Is it 'cause you care too much, or because...because I don't matter to you at all?"

"Why would you say that?" Zexion said too sharply.

"Well...I dunno. I dunno, it just seems...you've been pretty damn distant lately. You'll barely even let me touch you--it seems like you've lost interest or something."

"Lost interest?" Something painful had tightened inside his chest, preventing him from drawing breath--not that he needed to. Demyx was saying everything, _everything _he'd been feeling... "I could say the same thing about you, you know."

"What? No, I--"

"You haven't been making an effort at all, either. I've been leaving you alone because you _let _it happen. If you really care as much as you say you do, then shouldn't you be a little more proactive? I can't lead you everywhere."

He hated himself, hated himself for every word that poured from his lips, not consciously but from that part of his nature he could never deny--the part that was all manipulator. That part _wanted _to see Demyx suffer, wanted to watch and revel in the slayer's misery. He hated it, but could never silence it.

For priding his abilities with words, he still had no idea how to use them. He could only use his skills to _hurt._

"Okay! Maybe that's _true!" _Demyx slapped his fist into the bench, which had to hurt quite a bit but he gave no indication of pain. "Maybe it is! But y'know, it's 'cause I don't know how or what to do, because you--_no. _I won't play the blame game, Zexion."

His voice grew chilly with a resolve Demyx had rarely heard from him before, and his eyes were hard as diamonds. "I _won't. _'Cause we're both to blame here, just as much. You're right. I haven't been making enough of an effort. But neither have you. After that--after we argued--it kinda all...it kinda fell apart, I guess? But you seem to think--I mean--I guess what I'm trying to say is that isn't _not over. _I won't let it end, just like this...we have our differences. I know that. I know I may never see eye-to-eye with you on the--the whole vampire thing, and everything. But that doesn't change a thing about the way I feel. I do...maybe I haven't been good at showing it lately, but I do...I _do _care. I care."

He lowered his head, looking embarrassed; Zexion suddenly felt very sorry for him. And chilled to the bone. Everything Demyx was saying--it rang with truth. He'd long held Demyx was awkward and hadn't the slightest how to work with words, not the way he did, but...but _Demyx _was the one who could consolidate all their tangled feelings for each other into coherent sentences, while all Zexion could do was lay around blame.

But perhaps it was the human who had to say it. A vampire--an _incubus_--like Zexion could never understand that sort of genuine, deep emotion, after all.

"Demyx..." he began.

"Shit, I'm sorry," said Demyx, shaking his head. "I can't--I just can't say it the way I wanna. I sound like I'm whining, don't I? I really--I can't say it. I can't."

"You don't have to," Zexion said softly.

"You're right. I guess I...I have my own talents. That don't include saying things the way I mean them." Demyx smiled bitterly again. "I...hey."

He raised a finger to shush Zexion, though Zexion wasn't saying anything; he frowned in confusion. Demyx tilted his head in the direction of the hotel, cupping a hand to his ear as if trying to listen to something. Zexion listened too, though all he heard was the tinkling of the piano and the laughing of the dancers.

"Hey, the song...it's changed," Demyx said in a strange quiet tone, as if he was speaking to himself. "I know this one..."

"Really?" Zexion frowned. All of the piano songs that had been playing sounded the same to him, though granted he hadn't been paying much attention. It made sense that the musically inclined Demyx would, though.

"Yeah." Demyx had stood up, and was gazing in the distance as if he was seeing something Zexion couldn't. "It was...one of my favorites. I remember. One of the first I learned...damn, it's cheesy, but still...I think...if it's all right with you...I'd like to sing it to you."

"What? Why?" Zexion said, trying not to betray how the blood in his veins had gone cold. He remembered a long-ago conversation, Demyx saying that maybe someday he'd sing for Zexion. But after everything that had happened between the two of them...he hadn't thought that he would see the day.

"I told you, right?" Demyx said, a heartbreakingly soft and sad smile crossing his face. "I'd sing to you. I know that I can't really put into words what I feel, not as good as you can, but...but I can sing. I can _sing _what I feel. Do you understand?"

Zexion didn't really, but he nodded all the same. Something deep and serious was going on, something in which he had no experience. He, the vampire who'd lived almost a century! But living long didn't mean that he knew everything. Many things, especially those to do with matters of the heart, remained beyond on his reach.

Yet it seemed Demyx's understanding was already far deeper and more thorough than Zexion's could ever be. The difference between a human and a vampire, he supposed.

And then, standing in front of him, illuminated in soft and unearthly starlight, Demyx began to sing. His tenor voice wasn't particularly grandiose--certainly he could never belt an operatic aria--but it held a soft soulfulness that more than made up for it. He sang from his _heart._ The song had a slow rhythm, which along with Demyx's gentle voice soothed Zexion like a pleasant dream.

"_You're just too good to be true  
__Can't keep my eyes off you  
__You feel like heaven to touch  
__I wanna hold you so much.  
__At long last love has arrived  
__And I thank God I'm alive  
__You're just too good to be true  
__Can't take my eyes off you."_

He knelt before Zexion, smiling up at the vampire with such tenderness that it physically _hurt. _No one had ever looked at him like that before, not even Demyx...and he was entirely sincere. He _meant _it, every saccharine word he sang.

He understood what Demyx meant now when he said he could express himself in music much better than he could in words. Demyx had been surprisingly eloquent when he was trying to explain his feelings, but this..this went beyond eloquent.

_"Pardon the way that I stare,  
__There's nothing else to compare  
__The sight of you makes me weak  
__There are no words left to speak.  
__But if you feel like I feel  
__Please let me know that it's real  
__You're just too good to be true  
__Can't take my eyes off you."_

Demyx stood again, in a surprisingly fluid movement. The music in the distance picked up its pace, and he responded by raising his voice as well, so the high clear notes resounded in the night like a bell--Zexion heard a nightingale fly away in alarm, and smirked in amusement; Demyx's song was far more passionate and beautiful than any notes the bird could trill.

And as per the song, he never once removed his eyes from Zexion's face. They burned with an intent that Zexion couldn't understand, but he knew fascinated him. He sat even further upright, lavishing his undivided attention on his singing lover.

_"And I love you baby  
__And if it's quite all right I need you baby  
__To warm a lonely night,  
__I love you baby  
__Trust in me when I say--_

_"Oh pretty baby  
__Don't bring me down I pray, oh pretty baby  
__Now that I've found you stay  
__And let me love you, baby,  
__Let me love you."_

He sang with such _passion_...Zexion felt like fainting from its overwhelming force, but of course he wasn't that weak. And he'd said it. Those words that Zexion had always longed to hear but at the same time dread, though now he could feel nothing but thrill at hearing them sung in Demyx's lovely tenor:

_I love you._

Demyx was singing more softly now, but with the same radiant joy--he'd started off somewhat hesitant, but it seemed that his sung confession had banished all of his restraint. He held out a hand to Zexion, much as he had earlier that day before the ball, but it was different now. All different. Zexion took the profferred hand, and gasped as Demyx pulled him into a spin.

_"You're just too good to be true,  
__Can't take my eyes off you  
__You feel like heaven to touch,  
__I wanna hold you so much.  
__At long last love has arrived,  
__And I thank God I'm alive,  
__You're just too good to be true,  
__Can't take my eyes off you."_

They were dancing in wide sweeping arcs, heedless of formal steps or anything because none of that mattered. Nothing mattered except their bodies moving in tandem, except the heavenly whisper of the stars on them, except the resolve glittering in Demyx's eyes and the words he sang to the night sky, loud and clear and bursting with love:

_"I love you baby  
__And if it's quite all right I need you baby  
__To warm a lonely night,  
__I love you baby  
__Trust in me when I say--"_

Their dancing had carried them quite close to the edge of the pool, to the point where another spin would probably make them fall in. Zexion shoved Demyx slightly to get him away; he was astounded by how the slayer could continue singing unbrokenly despite that. It was almost as if he was in his own world, where nothing mattered but him and Zexion and his song, rising to a crescendo...

_"Oh pretty baby  
__Don't bring me down I pray, oh pretty baby  
__Now that I've found you stay  
__And let me love you, baby,  
__Let me love you."_

And it was over. Demyx's voice softened at the end to become almost inaudible, and he hummed the last notes that were issuing from the ballroom, still smiling that tender smile. Zexion stared up at the slayer, conscious of Demyx's strong grip on his waist and their linked hands, feeling like a man rising from a pleasant dream. The dream was over now, Demyx's lovely voice was no longer ringing in his ears, the magic of the night that had briefly enveloped him was gone, but...

But he still felt he'd gained something irrevocably.

"It's been a while since I sang," Demyx said, almost shyly. "So yeah, it probably sounded a bit off..."

"No, no," Zexion said. "No. It didn't. That was--that was perfect. I had no idea that you could...you could..."

He trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Once again, he was seeing the limitations of his own skill with words. If only he could be more like Demyx, more able to speak with passion and conviction.

"Aww, thank you, Zexy." Demyx pulled him closer, so that they were embracing; his hand had now found the nape of Zexion's neck and was fiddling with a few stray strands of hair, sending shivers down Zexion's spine. "And I really...I really meant it. Every word. When I said I loved you..."

"I know," Zexion murmured.

"'Cause I know now. I _do _love you, Zexion. Insane as it is--I know I shouldn't--"

"And since when did that matter?" Zexion said with sudden ferocity, seizing the front of Demyx's tuxedo and glaring into his eyes. "Since when? It doesn't matter what other people think. If the feeling is _real, _then let it be. Even if others may disapprove. Even if we ourselves have our share of difficulties and disagreements..." His voice softened; he relaxed his grip. "The feeling is real, Demyx. That's what matters to me."

"Oh, Zexy..." Demyx squeezed him, tightly, almost as if to reassure himself that Zexion was really there. "So are you trying to say that you--you love me too?"

"Yes, you idiot," Zexion said; he should have figured Demyx needed it spelled out. "Honestly, I don't know why, seeing as you are brainless and incompetent and can't dress yourself to save your life, not to mention a hypocrite, but all the same--I love you. Demyx. I love you."

To his shame, his voice cracked somewhat on the last sentence. He could believe those words, but he still couldn't stay them with proper conviction. Because he'd never...never said anything like them before. He'd never _loved _anyone before like he loved Demyx.

"That's the meanest confession I've ever heard, Zexion," Demyx sighed. "And y'know, you're no saint yourself. You're self-righteous and smarmy and a sociopath. Not to mention a hypocrite too! But I still love you anyway, see?"

Zexion laughed bitterly. "Aren't lovers only supposed to see perfection in each other?"

"Well, fuck that. Seems to me loving a perfect person would be really boring."

"Ahh...same here. And we're an incubus and a human, anyhow, so I suppose normal standards don't apply."

"Yep!" Demyx sounded incongruously happy, and squeezed him again. It was rather painful and humiliating to boot, but Zexion found he didn't mind. "Go to hell, normal standards! I'll say it to the world! I'm a brainless and incompetent vampire slayer and I love a self-righteous and sociopathic incubus!"

Zexion laughed again, this time for real; his laugh became only more giddy as Demyx swept him up in his arms, just like a knight carrying a princess. Usually he'd have objected to being treated like a distressed damsel, but right now he didn't care at all--Demyx's grip was warm and strong, and walking was too much of a bother anyhow.

"Now, now. I don't believe I am _that _self-righteous--"

"Yeah? And I'm pretty sure I'm not nearly as brainless as you think!"

"Believe that if it makes you feel better," Zexion said with a little snicker, burying his face deeper into Demyx's chest. Demyx, always so warm and strong--always a _constant. _Demyx, his lover. A little thrill ran through him at that thought. "Perhaps it wasn't such a waste to come here after all."

"You think?" Demyx said. "Yeah...and you know, Zexion? I'm glad I figured it out now. I'm glad I could tell it to you now. Because...because if something happened during the battle, or whatever...and I wouldn't be able to...then I know I'd regret it. Forever."

"Don't talk about that," Zexion whispered, tightening his grip on the front of Demyx's tuxedo. "I know it'll happen and I know it's unavoidable but right now, I don't want to talk about it. _I don't. _I only want to be here with you and know that you're here and I am here and that, _that _is all that matters."

Demyx smiled, though there was something strangely sad to it. "Sounds familiar, huh? I remember saying that to you once..."

"And truer words couldn't have been spoken."

"I know. Zexy...?"

"Yes?"

"I...I just wanted to say it again: I love you."

"Quite true. And I love you too."

They both, he thought, thrilled in just saying those words, even if they didn't mean anything. In finally consolidating all of their confusing feelings for each other. No, just exchanging "I love you"s wouldn't solve any of the problems plaguing them, but...it was what they'd both fought for, and come hell or high water, they would use every chance to say it. To _prove _it.

Zexion believed this was a rather reckless way of thinking about things--he'd never been the type to push an unpleasant matter aside to be dealt with later--but then again, nothing could make you more reckless than falling in love.

He curled up closer to Demyx's life-giving warmth. For some reason, he didn't mind a little recklessness every now and then.

* * *

I loved writing that confession scene. I was afraid of it being too cheesy; part of the reason why I didn't want a confession scene in the first place. But it turned quite better than I envisioned, and more in character to boot. All the insulting...and it seemed only logical that the two confess after Demyx pretty much sings "I love you baby." For writing the scene I drew from that song, obviously, but also there's a little bit of influence from "Simple and Clean," of all songs, at the end.

Looking back, I don't think the first scene is as bad as I thought it was. It's more that it takes a fairly different tone from the last part of the chapter, the emotional high note of the confession. It's more amusing and sardonically funny, I guess.

Preview for next chapter, "Risk," which will be the beginning of the assault on the Coven of Thirteen:

_"Do you believe it's a gamble you are willing to take?" Luxord said, smiling as he stepped his fingers. Xemnas hated many things about the man--his fickleness with loyalties, his habit of treating everything as if it was all a grand game, his sickening cologne which did nothing to hide his scent of mortal flesh and corruption--but he realized what he hated the most was Luxord's smile. There was always the hint of something condescending and mocking to it, as if Luxord never meant the words he said. He smiled so blithely, as if he was free from the usual laws that restrained mortal men._

_Xemnas hated that. A mortal who didn't know his place...the world could do with fewer of those._

Hope you all enjoy it! I can't promise when the next update will be, but it will definitely come. I'm glad that I've gotten back in this story, and certainly I figure it's not a bad note to leave my fanfiction career on. Remember to review! ^^ And check out my fictionpress if you want stories that are more than occasionally updated.


	27. Risk

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_27. Risk_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene, Cleon

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, GRAPHIC SCENES, character death, OVERALL WEIRDNESS, scads of violence

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: A belated happy new year to you all! And I bring another update.

My winter break is soon to end (boo hoo...), so I can't promise when the next chapter will come, but there's lots of meaty goodness in this one. Especially when it comes to the action scenes! I'm very proud of them; I think they may be my favorite action scenes in all the story. This chapter came out in one rush when I sat down to write it, which is pretty rare these days for me...then again, I was feeling _very _upset when I started seeing as I'd just lost to Vexen (second battle) on Re:CoM for what had to be the tenth time. Grrrr. I have not encountered such a broken boss since Cerberus in KH1 and Demyx in 2. Now I long to play those computer games I loved so much as a kid (y'know, Putt-Putt, Carmen Sandiego, Reader Rabbit, Pajama Sam? _Someone's _gotta remember those games!), they were fun and educational and didn't have scary undefeatable bosses.

Remember that I'll be updating my fictionpress more often than my fanfiction, especially **Most Perfect Servant**. So check that one out!

* * *

In a warehouse by the seaside, the Superior of the Coven of Thirteen resumed a conversation during which he'd been interrupted a month ago.

He strode imperiously through the halls of the gloomy base, his coat flapping around him, Luxord and Kadaj following several paces behind him, as was respectful. He was speaking to them, not bothering to turn around to look at him--after all, he could hear them just fine.

"It is abundantly clear that _he _has returned--"

"Who?" Kadaj said, almost sulkily. "You keep mentioning this 'he', but you haven't told us who he is."

"That's right, Superior," Luxord said. "If we're to be your allies, you ought to inform us of everything."

"Everything." Xemnas hid a snort. "Well--there is a reason that I have not spoken to you in over a month."

"I thought that was 'cause you'd forgotten about us," Kadaj said.

"Why would I have? You both offer valuable alliances," Xemnas said. "I wouldn't forget potential allies so easily."

"Is that so, then?" Luxord said, and then chuckled for some arcane reason. Xemnas had long given up trying to understand Luxord's sense of humor, however.

The hall, snaking deep into the heart of the warehouse, terminated in a metal-barred door--the door to his office. His inner sanctum and retreat, where only those who he invited could enter. Xemnas unbolted the heavy bar, letting it slide back with a loud clacking sound, and then pushed the door open, gesturing for Luxord and Kadaj to enter first.

Like the rest of the warehouse, the office was spartan and simply furnished--besides a beaten and scuffed mahogany desk in the center, and a few bulletins tacked to the walls, it was bare. Xemnas thought he saw Luxord shiver slightly when he entered, which strangely made him feel satisfied; the banker gave so few signs as to his own mortality that it was always a relief to see them. And certainly, the office was colder than the rest of the already frigid warehouse (kept that way for the vampires who enjoyed it), and its air heavier and darker. It filled Xemnas' lungs when he breathed in, resting in them with a comforting weight that the feeble air of the rest of the world did not. Then again, it wasn't as if he even needed to breathe to survive.

"Tell us," Kadaj said the instant he'd entered.

"Tell you what?" Xemnas said, raising an eyebrow. Of course, he knew exactly what Kadaj was talking about, but it gave him some level of satisfaction to watch the indignity flashing across Kadaj's face--yet there was no way he could politely express it. One of many perks of being Superior of the most powerful coven in the world...

"You know what, Superior," Luxord said with a smirk. "This mysterious 'he.' Do enlighten us."

"Ahh...well, it is a complicated tale, and not one that I am willing to go terribly in depth into," Xemnas said. By now Kadaj and Luxord had sunk into the folding chairs arranged before the desk, but Xemnas remained standing. He had more power and authority this way. "But suffice to say that one day, over a month ago--"

"Hmm, you mean the day that the little incubus from the North betrayed the Coven of Thirteen? I was wondering why you'd cut short your chase of him," Luxord said.

"His name is Ienzo, and technically he hails from the South-Central European Coven, but never matter. Yes, it has something to do with Ienzo slipping from my grasp," Xemnas said. "That night...neither of you are aware of the true events that occurred. Granted, very few are besides me and Saix."

"So what _did _happen?" Kadaj said, sounding definitely impatient now.

"A man with whom I had once been...ahh..._acquainted_...reappeared that night as I confronted Ienzo and the slayers to whom he'd defected," Xemnas said, keeping his words measured and careful--he didn't want to let slip anything that Kadaj and Luxord shouldn't know. "It came as something of a surprise to me, seeing as I had believed him dead."

"Was he a vampire?" Kadaj said. He was leaning forward and watching Xemnas wide-eyed, clearly curious. Just like a child, Xemnas thought.

"No," Xemnas said. "What he was...I am still unsure of. But he had power...so much power. Mastery over the darkness itself..."

He could still remember, even though he didn't want to--that night when the mysterious darkness had flooded the plaza, blinding him, choking all his senses. _His _senses. Far superior to those of a mere human's, far superior to those of even most pureblood vampires! Yet in those heart-stopping, harrowing moments he had been blind and deaf and mute and helpless as any human fetus in the womb, lost and flailing in the darkness, unable to sense _Saix _even.

He had seen, then, in one horrifying flash--just how _little _he truly was. An undead creature, not even a proper vampire, a monster that by all means should not exist.

More than anything, Xemnas loathed doubt. Rarely had he ever had a cause for doubting himself--until that night.

"By the time the darkness dissipated," he said, speaking to take his mind off his dark thoughts, "he was gone. And Ienzo and his lot...had vanished with him. It isn't a far stretch to assume that they are connected--and that he is helping Ienzo."

"Oh, is _that _what you're trying to say, dear Superior?" said Luxord with another infernal laugh. "Someone has finally gotten the better of you!"

"Not for long," Xemnas said, trying to suppress his rising temper. "What do you think I have been spending the past month doing? Regrouping and redirecting our coven's efforts towards defeating him."

"So wait, you've forgotten about this incubus traitor?" said Kadaj.

"Hardly," Xemnas said. "They are working together, I know it. I am merely trying to face the greater threat of the two--an incubus is nothing, after all. Clever as he is, Ienzo is still constrained by his nature. But that man...or monster...I do not even know what he is. He is--unpredictable. An unknown factor. And that makes him dangerous."

"So what have you decided to do, Superior?" Luxord said.

Xemnas laughed dryly. "Nothing? We do not have enough information yet. That man...Saix and I have been searching, we have sent our best scouts and mages in an attempt to find a trail to that man. And we have come up with nothing. He has been incredibly good at covering up his tracks..."

"We're good trackers, my family," Kadaj piped up, looking expectantly at Xemnas. "We could help."

Xemnas saw right through a transparent attempt to curry favor with him; it was all he could do to keep himself from laughing. But help of any sort would be greatly appreciated...

He sensed something--a fleck of impatience, perhaps--from Luxord, and turned to glance at the human banker. Luxord was sitting with his usual calm aplomb, one ankle resting on the other knee and his hands clasped in his lap (apparently he didn't care about wrinkling his suit), but there seemed to be an edge of restlessness to him, like the fitful flickering of a candle inside a jar. He was clearly bursting to tell Xemnas something, but didn't want to right now...

Perhaps because Kadaj was in the room?

Xemnas glanced at the younger vampire, who glared back, looking annoyed. "What is it?" he snapped.

"You may go now, Kadaj," Xemnas said, gesturing imperiously towards the door. "Confer with my chief mage--I believe his name is Bartholomew? Of the North American Coven. He is in charge of the tracking efforts, so if you wish to assist with that, then you will go to him. Is that clear?"

Kadaj's mouth twitched as if he wanted to snap back a retort, but didn't say anything, though his expression was stormy. He stood without a sound, with the fluid grace all the House of Jenova members shared, and glided out of the room with visible annoyance. The boy had known he was being dismissed, but Xemnas liked that he hadn't verbally protested. Perhaps this alliance wouldn't be such a terrible idea after all...

"We are alone, Mr. Luxord," he said, after he sensed that Kadaj's scent was a decent distance away. "Speak your mind."

"Hmm," Luxord said, with that ingratiating sweetness that so irritated Xemnas. "Well, it truly is nothing, Superior...nothing solid, that is. I have hunches and suspicions, you could say..."

"And you know that I have long learned to trust your hunches and suspicions. When it comes to luck, Mr. Luxord, you never fail. Speak."

"Thank you for the flattery, dear Superior," Luxord said with a dry laugh. "Well...I happened to briefly attend the Slayer Society Ball a couple of days ago."

"Of course, someone of your stature in the slaying community would be expected to attend," Xemnas said smoothly. "And what did you see there?"

"Oh, nothing of worth..." Luxord said, arching an eyebrow.

"But?" Xemnas said.

"But I _did _happen to glimpse something particularly...interesting. Particularly to you, Superior," Luxord said. "One of the guests, you see, had brought a vampire along--"

"Ah? That's typical for vampire slayers who capture incubi and succubi as..._pets." _Xemnas spat the word out, infusing it with all his disgust. "They bring them so they can parade them in front of their fellows, to show off their _conquests."_

Vampire slayers. Xemnas loathed all mortals, true, but he loathed vampire slayers the most. What arrogance could compel humans to believe that they could slaughter and master vampires, their superior in every way? It would have been laughable if it wasn't so deplorable.

"Yes, that _might _be the case, but..." Luxord leaned forward slightly, a twinkle to his eye and a conspiratorial edge to his voice. "But this young incubus that I saw, he happened to match the description of a _certain_ vampire--"

If Xemnas' heart could still beat, he knew it would be pounding with excitement; even now he was having trouble maintaining his composure, controlling his anticipation. He strode slightly closer to Luxord, not wanting to miss a word the banker was saying; Luxord's smile acquired a triumphant quality, as if he was pleased he was able to manipulate the Superior this way. Xemnas ignored it.

"The incubus was very slender in build, almost feminine, and about a head shorter than you and me. He had very dark blue eyes and sharp features, and his hair was a color I could only describe as slate. It was in a somewhat different style than he had in the wanted picture, but otherwise I'm fairly certain."

"_Ienzo," _Xemnas breathed, an icy and controlled rage flooding through his veins as he spoke the three syllables. "So he's sold himself to the slayers."

"It was only a brief glimpse, mind you," said Luxord, his eyes now twinkling with mad delight. "He and his human date quickly vanished out of the doors and I got accosted by a particularly irritating slayer...but all the same, it's _something, _is it not?"

"He's sold himself to the slayers," Xemnas said again, tightening his hands into fists. "That boy...I always sensed that he was the sort who was fickle with his alliances. He'd sell himself to any side that would help him most--probably the side that would do him better in bed. Despicable. I remember why I loathe all incubi and succubi--"

"But most wouldn't have his smarts, would they?" Luxord said, almost airily--as if they_ weren't _discussing a matter of coven-wide security. Then again, Luxord wasn't technically a part of the coven, and had no investment in it anyhow. He was just playing all sides for his own macabre amusement.

Xemnas scowled as he replied. "No, they would not. That boy has most likely given the slayers ample information already. As low in the ranks as he is, he could still spill forth something vital..."

"Ah," Luxord said, raising a finger like a teacher elaborating on a point. "About that. I also hear, from the gossip I gather amongst slayers, that a group of some of the most exclusive--Florez, Marchen, La Monte, you know the drill, along with even some werewolf hunters--are plotting something major. They won't reveal it, but all the same...these rumors only started about a month ago. After the incubus Ienzo defected."

"They are plotting a strike on us," Xemnas said, keeping his voice flat and toneless, though rage burned like a star going nova inside him. "The little traitor...he's convinced them to attack us!"

"Well, then your response is logical, is it not?"

"What are you trying to say?" Xemnas glared at Luxord.

"I mean what I say, dear Superior," Luxord said most unhelpfully. "Why wait for _them _to strike first? You know now they have insidious designs on you, Superior. So why not do the logical thing--"

"And strike _them _first." Xemnas finished Luxord's sentence, feeling light-headed and strangely euphoric with relevation. What Luxord had said...truthfully he hadn't considered it. Actively striking at the slayers...for one thing, he knew that the Coven of Thirteen wasn't strong enough, and perhaps would not be for a long while, to challenge the much better organized--and more numerous--slayers. He was not yet ready for an all-out war between vampires and slayers; he'd always planned on waiting until he'd consolidated more power.

But when was enough power _enough? _He already controlled all of the important covens in the world, and knew he was assured now of the House of Jenova's help. So why did he need to continue waiting? Especially when the entire Coven of Thirteen--everything he had spent the better part of two centuries building up--would soon come under attack. No, he wouldn't wait for the inevitable. It was better to strike the slayers first, when they least expected it...

After all, they would have no way of knowing. Because they did not yet know about Luxord.

"Yes," said Luxord, leaning back in his chair and looking supremely satisfied. "It is...quite a gamble, I confess. But gambles always make everything more worth it."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Xemnas said, glaring at Luxord. "What do you think?"

"_Me? _Why, I'm nothing, dear Superior." Luxord threw his head back and laughed sarcastically. "Just a human banker who likes watching games unfold. No, I should be asking the question of you."

He leaned forward, his eyes acquiring a glinting, serious hardness. Xemnas twitched slightly; whenever Luxord started speaking like this, he rarely said anything pleasant.

"Do _you_ believe it's a gamble you are willing to take?" he said, smiling as he steepled his fingers. Xemnas hated many things about the man--his fickleness with loyalties, his habit of treating everything as if it was all a grand game, his sickening cologne which did nothing to hide his scent of mortal flesh and corruption--but he realized what he hated the most was Luxord's _smile. _There was always the hint of something condescending and mocking to it, as if Luxord never meant the words he said. He smiled so blithely, as if he was free from the usual laws that restrained mortal men.

Xemnas hated that. A mortal who didn't know his place...the world could do with fewer of those.

But the fact of the matter was that he needed Luxord. Needed Luxord far more than Luxord needed him. So he would have to tolerate the man, humor him, engage him in his silly games.

And Luxord, despite cloaking his words in gaming terms, spoke of quite sensible matters. It was either kill or be killed--and Xemnas always knew which option he would pick from those two.

"Yes," he said with all the conviction he could muster, his voice booming through the room. "It is."

* * *

As night fell on DiZ's manor, causing the snow blanketing the surrounding forest to glow preternaturally in the darkness, the strike team gathered in the main courtyard.

"All right, we're either ready now or we're not," said Axel roughly; he seemed to acting as group leader. Zexion had to confess that the tall red-haired slayer put forth almost an imposing image, clad in a long dark overcoat and sunglasses, twirling around a gun in one hand while reaching behind his shoulder to adjust the Cross of the Kingdom with the other.

The Cross of the Kingdom. Even standing at the very edge of the group as he was now, he could detect the power emanating from the cross (its tarnish all gone, due to Marluxia and Namine's efforts), a power strong enough to almost make him faint. There were the blessings for safety and the spells for strength, emitting a sharp and concentrated heat like a burst of energy from a pulsar, and then worse than that was the presence of the _silver _itself: dull and corrosive and all-pervasive, leaving behind a permanent metallic tang in Zexion's mouth and making his head throb. He thought his knees would have long given way if it wasn't for Demyx standing beside him, one arm wrapped comfortingly around his waist...

"I hope he gets rid of that thing soon," he said in an undertone to Demyx, glaring at the cross strapped to Axel's back.

"What? Why?" Demyx said absently, fiddling with the safety on his silver-plated gun. It didn't give off nearly as offensive a presence as the cross did, but even then Zexion could still feel it, and it was most unpleasant.

There was altogether too much silver here, he thought sourly. Axel, Demyx, Xigbar, and Roxas were all carrying around silver-plated guns which were loaded with silver bullets, and had slid extra magazines of silver bullets into their coat pockets. Leon was walking around with a ridiculous weapon that he called a "gunblade," which was also plated with silver and needed silver bullets. Cloud and Marluxia's weapons were just as ridiculous: Cloud carried an enormous sword on his back, made of the finest steel but edged with silver, as most vampire slaying swords were, and Marluxia hefted a massive scythe whose curving blade was also edged with silver. Both had refused guns.

But nothing could be more offensive and horrible than that solid slab of silver on Axels' back, pulsing with nausea-inducing spells and power. A weapon like that could easily dispatch of a powerful pureblood vampire in one hit, and it didn't even have to be a hit to the heart. What it could do to an incubus like him...he shuddered.

"Hey, you okay?" Demyx seemed to have noticed the shudder, and tightened his grip on Zexion's waist. Zexion didn't want to admit how much that simple gesture reassured him.

"I _will _be," Zexion snarled, "when I get an appreciable distance away from that cross."

"Ohh, _that," _Demyx said, glancing at the cross. "Yeah...you must be taking it pretty hard, huh? Sorry..."

"It's not your fault," Zexion grumbled, delivering Demyx's arm a squeeze. "It's _mine. _I don't remember what possessed me to volunteer for this mission in the first place. I'm no help in a fight--"

"Oh, come on, Zexy," Demyx said. "You're the former Coven of Thirteen member. You'll know how to guide us around the warehouse."

"That is true, I suppose..." Zexion mumbled, leaning closer to Demyx. He had to admit he appreciated more than he could put into words that Demyx had said "former," small and stupid a thing as it might be. Demyx, at the very least, had long stopped seeing him as a vampire. The others once-in-a-while would wonder aloud whether Zexion wasn't a spy planted by the Coven of Thirteen, but Demyx...Demyx trusted him entirely.

_Of course he would. Because we're _lovers.

That thought filled him with much more satisfaction than he would ever admit. Finally, he knew what it was he'd fought so long and hard for--and it was beautiful.

"Okay, we'll sneak in from that side entrance the vampire told us about," Axel was saying to the gathered group. "Take it quietly, okay? We want the element of surprise on our side. Soon as something approaches--shoot! Or slice, whichever suits you better. _This--_" He tapped the side of the Cross of the Kingdom, with an affection that sent shivers down Zexion's spine, though he couldn't say why, "This I'll save for the coup de grace. The boss himself."

"And if you don't make it...?" Marluxia raised an eyebrow.

"Then whoever's with me will take it and we'll go from there," Axel said; for some reason he exchanged a meaningful glance with Roxas. "Got it memorized? We'll have to split up, that's just the nature of a job like this, but always make sure that at least one other person's with you, all right? I've got no illusions about this--we're outnumbered and outmatched here. There's seven of us and who the hell knows how many of them."

"Seven?" a voice said from the near distance. Everyone whirled around sharply, though Zexion knew exactly who he'd see. DiZ came approaching them, his robes shockingly dark against the colorless snow, looking for all the world like a moving clot of blood.

"I don't think so," DiZ continued, his rich voice ringing across the silent grounds. "Have you forgotten about _me...?"_

"Whoa! What's this?" cried Xigbar, sounding like he'd been hit in the head. "Hey, are you actually gonna _help _us?"

"That's unexpected," Leon said sardonically.

"Of course I will help," DiZ said fiercely, not seeming to notice or care about everyone's disbelieving reactions. "I have a grudge to settle with Xemnas, after all..."

His visible eye flashed with barely suppressed rage, making Zexion (though he'd never admit it) shiver slightly. This DiZ...this harsh and vengeful man...it scared him, in a way. He'd never seen _anyone _so intense before, who spoke with such bitter hatred... Of course, by all means DiZ had a right and reason to feel the way he did, but all the same...

"Great! Maybe you can do that magic teleport thing and put us inside the building, we don't hafta break through--" Axel enthused.

"That would not be wise," DiZ said. "He would detect my magic in an instant, and you would lose your precious element of surprise.

"Tch." A scowl spasmed across Axel's face, but he didn't say anything--probably because he realized DiZ had a point. "Well, all right, then. As long as you help us even a _little _bit--"

"Rest assured," DiZ said, inclining his head in a solemn nod, "I will not be a hindrance."

"So?" Cloud said. "Are we ready?"

"Ready as we will be," Axel said. "Remember, don't bother with trying to kill as _many _vamps and werewolves as possible. Take out the important ones. There's the head honcho Xemnas himself, but there's also that werewolf that works with him, blue-haired one, what's his name--"

"Saix," Zexion supplied.

"Yeah, that's right. Him. And I figure that this Xaldin vamp must work with him too. Take out the tougher ones. That'll cripple the entire damn coven, mark my words. And that's our entire mission, got it memorized? Cripple the Coven of Thirteen so badly it'll never be able to recover."

Zexion heard Demyx breathe in sharply beside him; he'd gone pale and his heart was pounding like a bird trying to escape a cage. He leaned closer to Demyx, draping his arms over the slayer's warm torso to try to comfort him, even though he knew that he himself was freezing to the touch and would probably simply make Demyx all the more chillier. Even so, Demyx tightened his grip on Zexion's waist and drew him closer, as if he didn't care.

"Dammit, this is scary," Demyx mumbled, shaking his head. "I've never killed a pureblood before--"

"I know you can do it, Demyx," Zexion murmured. "You have--conviction."

"Is that so?" Demyx laughed a little bit. "All the same, I know there's one helluva risk involved with this, so I guess I just wanted to--"

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Axel's sharp voice sliced through Demyx and Zexion's moment, rudely snapping them back to reality. "Hurry up and get going, dammit! We sure as hell aren't going to sit back and watch you make out, got it memorized?"

Zexion pulled away from Demyx in a heartbeat, trying to tell himself that a flush was most assuredly _not _rising in his cheeks. He felt a little bit better when he looked back at Demyx and saw that the slayer was blushing just as brightly; he looked like a street light. And he felt a small measure of smug indignity when he glanced at Axel and saw that the redhead had linked his hands tightly with Roxas's. _Hypocrite... _Though he really shouldn't expect better from Axel of all people.

"We ready?" called Axel, tromping to the snow side-by-side with Roxas. "Let's go!"

* * *

The night was one of those tumultuous nights that Roxas had often dreaded during his life on the street. He had never been able to explain why, and certainly did his best to hide it because Hayner and Pence would do nothing but tease him mercilessly about it, but that didn't stop him from feeling a strong foreboding during nights like these, when roiling deep purple clouds rioted in the black sky, blocking the light of the stars and the faint sliver of the moon. A night well suited for a battle, he supposed.

And this time he knew he had all the reason in the world to feel dread--because they would be entering a real fight. Very soon. Step by step, as the group clung to the edge of the wharf on which the Coven of Thirteen's warehouse was situated, they came closer and closer to a building full of vampires and werewolves. Monsters that wouldn't hesitate to kill them, dismember them, and drink and revel in their blood afterwards...

To say Roxas was nervous would be the greatest understatement of the century.

But he _had _to do this. Long ago he'd resolved to take out Xemnas and all those who threatened him and his friends and loved ones. He'd made his decision and he sure as hell wouldn't back down now.

Axel turned towards him, offering a grin that flashed in the darkness. He didn't say anything, but that reassuring smile was enough to lift Roxas' spirits a little. He followed after Axel, clinging tightly to the gun in his hand and ignoring the offensive bite of silver against his skin.

_I'm a slayer first and a vampire second! It doesn't matter--nothing else matters--_

And then the group assembled in front of the salt-scoured and graffiti-streaked warehouse wall. It stank of raw sewage and rotting fish, cut sharply with the heavy salt and oil smell of the polluted ocean lapping thickly around it. But deeper inside was a darker and heavier scent, one of blood and midnight shadows--vampires. And always the musk of werewolves...Roxas felt his nose instinctively wrinkle, and saw out of the corner of his eye Zexion scowl in disgust. Vampiric instincts _were _strong, no matter how much he tried to deny them.

"Hey," hissed Axel to Zexion. "Where the hell's the entrance?"

"Yeah, I don't see a door," said Xigbar in just as quiet a whisper.

"Have you stood us all up?" Marluxia said with urgent ferocity, tightening his grip on his scythe.

Zexion wordlessly shook his head and glided forward, releasing his grip on Demyx's arm. He opened a pale hand and rested it on the sludgy bricks with a strange tenderness, before tapping them in a complicated sequence that Roxas, even with his enhanced vision, couldn't entirely follow.

A great grinding issued from the bricks, astonishingly loud in the night silence; Roxas saw several members of their group flinch. Slowly, the bricks began sliding apart from each other, like a house of cards falling apart, opening and retreating back and back and back until a gaping, man-sized hole was visible in the wall. From it the scents inside the warehouse wafted out even more intensely.

Zexion stood in front of the hole and swept his arm towards it in the universal "after you" gesture.

"Hmm..." DiZ said, breaking the silence. "Fascinating. This seems to be a side entrance used largely by more lower-ranked vampires--incubi and succubi, I'd imagine--"

"Yes," Zexion said, his voice strangely strained. "We are not allowed to enter through the front, because the Superior believes our presence defiling."

He said it with a strange measure of pride and some irony as well--probably because he knew full well his intent tonight _was _to defile the Coven of Thirteen. Not just defile, but destroy it utterly.

Cloud and Leon exchanged glances. "Well, we'd better go in," Leon said.

"Don't get killed," Cloud told him, his voice flat and clipped, though layered with an emotion Roxas couldn't understand--no, he understood full well, and it made his heart ache, ache with sympathy for the two of them...

"I could say the same to you," Leon said, and they stepped forward, drawing their weapons as they did so.

"Show time," Xigbar mumbled, stepping forward with Marluxia, who gave his scythe an ominous and needlessly dramatic spin.

"C'mon, Rox." Axel was by Roxas' side, his warm presence a greater comfort than Roxas would ever admit. "Let's go and give them a hell of a show, all right?"

Roxas gazed up into Axel's eyes, which behind his sunglasses were as vibrant green as he remembered, and burning with that light that he had seen many times over the past month yet always took his breath away when he glimpsed it anyhow. That aching tenderness...that _love. _A part of him still couldn't get used to the idea of what it really was the two of them had--it almost seemed too good to be true.

But it wasn't, of course. Axel loved Roxas and Roxas loved Axel and that was the here and now. The _truth. _Returning Axel's smile, he reached out and gave Axel's warm hand an encouraging squeeze, before drawing his gun from the holster. Axel nodded and drew his own gun, and together, they strode towards the warehouse. Towards the battle.

* * *

Everything was wrong the instant they entered through the dark hole.

They'd intended to go in pair by pair, at controlled intervals, and then split up when they headed inside. That had rested on the expectation of a relatively empty entrance hall, which Zexion had assured them would be the case--nobody but the odd incubus or succubus would be occupying the hall, and _those _were easily dealt with.

But shortly after Cloud and Leon had entered, they'd heard--the unthinkable. Roars and snarls, reports from bullets, the sick wet thuds of sword meeting flesh. _Battle _sounds. In an instant the others had rushed in, weapons ready--

Into the midst of a violent fray.

Demyx had never been in such a chaotic fight before, and that was saying a lot seeing as he'd been in many. But nothing like _this_--werewolves were everywhere, snarling and snapping and leaping at him, so close that he couldn't get a good shot in; he had to smack them aside with the gun, reveling fiendishly in their howls as the silver plating slammed against their fur. And then vampiric guards, lumbering muscle-bound creatures, hurled themselves upon the invaders, slashing with their claws--Demyx shot wildly every time he saw a pale form flicker at the periphery of his vision, terrified that if he didn't react on time he would be gutted like a fish by those scalpel-like claws--

He'd lost track of his comrades, though he could still hear them--Marluxia's inarticulate roars and the snicking and swishing of his scythe, Xigbar leaping back and forth and firing incessantly with his two guns, Axel cursing as he emptied bullets into the mob, the bursts from Leon's gunblade. He had no idea where DiZ was; maybe he'd teleported himself to where Xemnas was, hell if Demyx knew or cared.

A werewolf leapt straight for his throat--Demyx raised his gun but not quick enough--the werewolf slammed into his chest and bore him to the ground with a dull thud, clawing at his chest while it lowered horribly sharp saliva-slick teeth over his exposed throat, its hot and foul breath clouding in Demyx's vision and preventing him from thinking clearly--he had to do something, _anything_--

A snarl that was somewhat more high-pitched than the snarls from the werewolves, and then a hiss and the sound of the werewolf roaring in pain--blood arced in the air--the werewolf's grip on him slackened and it tumbled off him, whimpering like a whipped dog.

"Demyx!" shouted Zexion, extending a hand towards the slayer on the ground. "Are you all right?"

"Y...yeah, I think," Demyx stammered, unable to take his eyes off Zexion's hand--no, not his _hand, _but at the shockingly crimson blood staining his claws, at the blood dripping from the corners of his smouth and smeared on his chin--

"This is disgusting," Zexion hissed as he wiped the blood from his mouth, having hauled Demyx up to a tentative standing position. "I had to bite one of them to get it off me--most unpleasant. The taste will be in my mouth for days--_agghh!"_

He cried out in surprise as a vampiric guard came rushing towards him, swinging a sharp-clawed hand--Demyx reacted without thinking and fired, blasting the guard's head off in a mist of red and white. He tried to ignore how the blood splattered all over Zexion's coat...

"I owed you one," he said, offering Zexion a weak smile. "C'mon, let's go!"

He could hear the sound of more fighting and struggling up ahead--which heartened him greatly. So some of them had managed to break through...

But he wondered why the hell they'd even been greeted by the wolves and guards in the first place. Wasn't the hallway supposed to be empty? Yet it almost seemed as if the coven knew that the slayers would be coming, and had set up an ambush...

More vampires were pouring into the halls, snarling and slobbering pasty-faced creatures clothed in bloodstained rags. Made vampires. Strangely, seeing them reassured Demyx somewhat--he was familiar with fighting _these, _not purebloods and werewolves. Immediately he fired at them, smiling in satisfaction as they fell down in blazes of red. Zexion threw himself at them as well, slicing rapidly with his claws--it seemed some sort of black flying creatues were surrounding him too, attacking the made vampires with talons and beaks and leaving behind bursts of black feathers.

Ravens? Demyx blinked, feeling strangely giddy. He thought they--the morbid and intelligent birds--were much more suitable familiars to Zexion than the typical bats.

"Nice welcoming committee ya got here!" Demyx heard Xigbar yell somewhere close by, filling him with the incongruous urge to laugh.

Xigbar, who it seemed was directly behind them, had pegged the three made vampires blocking the end of the hall on their foreheads with three neat consecutive shots. Even in his old age, he was still as skilled a shot as ever... Demyx turned to face Zexion, noting with some amusement that a raven, somewhat larger than the rest, was sitting on the incubus's shoulder.

"C'mon, before any more come," he said, gesturing down the hall.

"Right." Zexion ran after him, their steps ringing surprisingly loud against the cold concrete. It seemed this stretch of hall was empty...well, not quite. Many corpses, both of wolves and vampires (both made and guards), were sprawled on the ground, sliced and shot beyond recognition and leaking puddles of blood on the dark concrete. It seemed Cloud and Leon had been down this way.

"Shit, why'd we get a welcome wagon in the first place?" Demyx yelled. "It's like they were _expecting _us--"

"I do not know," Zexion said tightly. "Ah--be careful, Mephistopheles is telling me that their next line of defense is a group of mages--they will be skilled illusionists and barrier mages, I'd imagine--"

Demyx goggled at Zexion. "_Mephistopheles? _Couldn't you have been a _little _more original with naming your pets?"

"Mephistopheles is not a pet, she is my trusted familiar," Zexion snapped, patting the raven on its glossy-feathered neck.

"_She?" _Demyx said incredulously.

"Yes, now--ahh, we've arrived."

Indeed they had. Blocking a fork in the hallway was a small group of vampires, more slimly built and more human in appearance than the guards. At the very forefront was the nerdy vampire with the bowl cut and coke-bottle glasses, Bartholomew.

He was crouching in a circle of dark symbols that seemed to be drawn of blood, and directly in front of him was a flickering, undulating barrier of deep purple light, blocking the hallway like a screen. Demyx instantly rushed towards it--it looked flimsy as hell--but Zexion snatched him by the back of the coat and dragged him back.

"Are you insane? That's a hellfire barrier of the fifth degree. You'll be scorched alive."

"Greetings, traitor," said Bartholomew unhappily. "It's a shame someone pretty as you chose to betray us--I was thinking of taking you to my bed myself--"

"The only bed I foresee taking you to is your deathbed," Zexion said--which Demyx thought was a pretty decent one-liner, if Zexion _hadn't _delivered it in an utter monotone. He raised a hand, and Demyx sensed the familiar rush of darkness that was signature of the vampire using his powers.

But all Zexion could do was cast illusions. How was he going to break through this supposedly impenetrable barrier?

"You're actually going to _challenge _us, incubus?" shouted a tall female vampire with a particularly bitchy look to her. Maybe because Demyx had dated a lot of girls that looked like her. "With _your _weak powers? Bartholomew, let's destroy them the way we destroyed _that _lot--"

_That lot? _At first, Demyx had no idea what she was talking about--but then realized with a chill that she must have meant Cloud and Leon. He didn't see them around, after all...

"Oh, shit, _no," _he breathed, his hand flying to his gun--but what use would that have on vampiric mages? They weren't the most physically strong, he knew, but with their magic they were practically unbeatable unless you knew a little magic yourself. All Axel had bothered teaching him were a few basic blessings and spells intended to ensure that weapons lasted longer and were more accurate.

"Right you are, Liesel," Bartholomew said. "Ready?"

The female vampire and several of the other vampires beside her worked at once, their hands flying in imperceptible motions as they sketched dark circles and markings--out of their own blood, Demyx realized with a sick sensation--on the concrete.

Mephistopheles cawed a warning and Zexion snatched Demyx by the arm, dragging him backwards. His face was whiter than Demyx had ever seen it before, and his eyes were wide with genuine terror.

"That's a high-level spell--an eleventh-degree damnation working--we _must _get out of the way unless you wish to be sent to one of the lowest levels of hell--"

"Huh? What? _Hell?" _Demyx squawked. "Hey, you can't be sent to a place that doesn't exist--"

"Well, not technically the Christian hell, it's more a breeding place for demons and--why am I telling you this, get back get _back!"_

"There's no escape!" cried Bartholomew, as Liesel and the other vampires chanted behind him, in a language that sounded like shattering glass and roaring fires. "We're going to direct all our force right to the middle of you, traitor--"

"You think so, huh?"

Demyx goggled at the two figures that had appeared in front of him in a burst of blinding light, light that sent the vampires (Zexion included) reeling back and howling in surprised pain. Cloud and Leon stood there, Cloud looking grim and determined, his sword drawn, and Leon looking very much like he'd stepped off the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror.

"What--what _was _that?" he gasped at Cloud.

"A taste of Hell," Cloud said with a noncommittal shrug. He turned towards the vampires again, pointing his massive sword at them in warning. For some reason, he seemed to be glowing with a light of his own, a light Demyx couldn't explain yet he liked it; it was soft and gentle, yet fierce and crackling at the same time. The vampires seemed to hate it, however, for they were drawing back and hissing like a nest of snakes; even Zexion was stumbling back, an arm flung before his face as if Cloud's gentle radiance was blinding.

"I'm a member of the Strife family of vampire slayers," Cloud declared, striding forward. "You might have heard about us. We've been melded with the blood of angels."

"No--_no!" _cried Bartholomew, waving his arms frantically. "No--stay back, stay _back!"_

"That means that none of your unholy magic will have any effect on me," Cloud continued, his tone measured but fierce. "Now step aside."

"No! We _won't!" _Bartholomew roared, leaping forward; he'd lost his coke-bottle glasses, and without them looked horribly wild and deranged--the monstrous creature of the night he really was, beneath the teacher's pet exterior. "Liesel--everyone--prepare the spell again--"

"It won't work," said Cloud, and he stepped forward--right through the barrier.

Zexion gasped and his hands flew to his mouth; he looked full well as if he expected Cloud to be incinerated on the spot. Which, given the way Zexion had described the barrier, was probably supposed to have happened. But it didn't. Instead, Cloud stepped through it like it was a silk curtain, too flimsy to hope to hold him back. He was standing only inches from Bartholomew, who cowered and screamed and whined all at once.

"No--no no _no, _I won't let you, I won't let, I won't _aughh--"_

Cloud sliced through him in a single swift and dispassionate motion, cutting Bartholomew clean in half. Bartholomew's torso fell to the ground, writhing like a crab on its back; his legs buckled and folded and fell forward, kicking like a drunken tap dancer. Blood sprayed from both his severed halves, a veritable fountain that drenched the surrounding vampires and Cloud, though Cloud was handling it much better than the screaming vampires were.

"Well," Leon said almost sardonically. "Seems like maybe I've underestimated you."

Cloud responded with a very gay, yet very fitting, flip of his hair.

With Bartholomew's death, the purple barrier had fizzled out of existence; Cloud and Leon seized on the opening immediately and fell upon the vampires, hacking and stabbing and shooting and raising up bursts of icy blood. Demyx stood there, dumbfounded, for a second, before Zexion's hand closed in a vise grip around his arm and dragged him forward.

"Let's go!" he shouted, rather needlessly, since he was already running.

Demyx didn't hesitate to obey, dashing after Zexion and through the struggling vampires and slayers. He wanted to call a thanks to Cloud and Leon--Cloud especially--but before he knew it he and Zexion had rounded a corner and the two were gone from his vision, though he could still hear them fight.

"Oh God what _was _that?" he gasped.

Zexion didn't seem to be paying attention. "Angel blood," he said, his manner perfunctory; he was focusing more on Mephistopheles, now resting on his oustretched wrist. "Ah, so he's chosen to hole himself up...of course. Befitting of him...but what's this? You say DiZ is with him. Hmm...fascinating. Well, I suppose we should leave him to DiZ and Axel, we shall go find Saix next, I presume..."

Mephistopheles flapped back to her perch on his shoulder; he turned around to fix Demyx with an expectant look that Demyx wouldn't dream of contesting.

They rounded another corner; the halls were surprisingly empty now, though streaks of blood on the walls implied that struggles had gone on. The instant they entered the new hall, though, Demyx gasped in mixed horror and wonder.

_Vines _were growing all over the walls, thick around as tree trunks and pulsing and dripping with sap and so very _alive. _Massive thorns the size of kitchen knifes were growing from the vines, and many of them had wrapped around the limp or faintly struggling bodies of vampires and werewolves, impaling them through and constricting until they'd crushed bones. Blood splattered the floor and the vines, rendering the hallway in a shocking tableau of green and red. _Christmas colors, _a ridiculous part of Demyx thought.

"Where the hell'd these _plants _come from?" he gasped in wonder.

"Marluxia, it seems," Zexion said. "Ahh, that makes sense. His blood is melded with that of the wood fey."

"Wow," Demyx gurgled. So this--_this _was the difference between a pureblood slayer and a puny human like himself. The ability to come back to life...the ability to resist vampiric magic...the ability to command such violent plants. He began feeling very insignificant and useless.

"I won't be able to do anything half as cool, huh?" he sighed.

"That is not true." Zexion gave him a stern look. "You may not be able to fight as flashily as they do, but if we take out one of Xemnas's top lieutenants--or even Xemnas himself--then that does not matter. We will have done something far greater."

"Yeah, that's true," Demyx said, "but the operating word is _if. _So, we're going for Saix now...?"

"Yes...what's that? Axel is closer to him?" Zexion was speaking to Mephistopheles again. "Ah, well, Axel's task is to take care of Xemnas, not Saix, so we might as well take the wolf for ourselves--oh!"

He lurched back almost as if he'd been hit, clinging to the walls for support, his face even whiter than it usually was and his knees shaking. Demyx rounded on him, concerned; ever since they'd entered the fray, Zexion hadn't come this close to losing his control. Clearly, something dangerous was around the corner...

Mephistopheles was flapping around her master, cawing warnings and beating her wings in panic, which only wound Demyx's own panic to a higher pitch. _Just what the hell was going on? _"What's going on, Zexy?" he shouted, his voice strained beyond belief. "Tell me, dammit--"

"H-he's approaching--" Zexion gasped, pressing his back further against the wall. "Oh no, oh _no, _he's coming--"

"Who? _Who?" _screamed Demyx, feeling ready to murder someone in frustration. "Xemnas? Saix?"

"N-no." Zexion shook his head violently. "Not them--"

"Great, then what do we have to worry about? C'mon, Zexy, let's go--" Demyx extended a hand towards his panicking lover--

And then let it drop down to his side again, stiff with horror, as steps rang down the vine-choked hall and a figure appeared on the far end, coming closer and closer to them with every light yet powerful stride. It was a strongly built and tall figure, heavily-muscled yet graceful, with a chiseled face surrounded by a nimbus of dreadlocks blowing in a small breeze that only it could feel.

A sadistic smile spread across the vampire's face and glimmered in his purple eyes as he approached.

_Xaldin._

* * *

DUN DUN! Cliffhanger time! And since I'm having issues with the next chapter (really, I haven't plotted the end of the story out at all!)...you'll have to endure this cliffie for a very long time!

Next chapter, I _believe _is called "Axel," and is the first time Axel's POV will appear in this story. In my current plans, it's more character-driven and more of a character study than the rest of the story, but who knows? A _lot _is subject to change at this point.

Preview, if the chapter actually stays that way:

_And then one early morning he finds himself lying side by side with Demyx, both stark naked and sweat-soaked and the sheets a tangled mess around them. He can't even think to regret anything, can't think at all--when he tries to grasp what happened it slips from his mind like sand from an open hand. No, not slips, but rather...he's afraid to face it. The _enormity _of it all. How could he have done that? Yet here he is, lying by his student after a passionate night together and he doesn't feel anything, particularly, except for a strange contentment that he can't explain. Nor does he really want to. Slowly he turns to face Demyx, taking in the boy's sweet and content face, his tan skin so unlike Axel's own pallor, blond strands drifting in front of closed eyes. He's dreaming, and they seem to be happy dreams._

_Axel wouldn't dare disturb those dreams, so he turns to the side and glances out the window. "I guess what matters," he says in a whisper, "is that you're here and I'm here and that's all that matters."_

This is subject to a _lot _of change, so don't expect these exact paragraphs to show up in that chapter. Most likely the general idea will be there but not the phrasing, if I keep the Axel-centric chapter at all.

Note that I've thought about turning the universe of _Tainted _into an original vampire story--just change a few names and it pretty much _is _an original story already. Even though it has a shitty plot right now (seriously, am I the only one who noticed the timeline implosions around the time that Zexion "killed" Axel and Demyx got captured by Xaldin? _Am I?). _If you're interested in what a non-KH _Tainted _would look like, do check out my lj! The link is on my profile.

Remember to review, and now excuse me as I try beating Vexen again. Or rather, I go play _Putt-Putt Travels Through Time._


	28. Axel

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_28. Axel_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene, Cleon

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, GRAPHIC SCENES, CHARACTER DEATH, OVERALL WEIRDNESS, SCADS OF VIOLENCE

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: I promised that I would update last night, but...it got horrendously late by the time I finished this monstrosity, so you're getting it now. Sorry for the lateness.

First of all, I've got to dedicate this chapter to the anonymous reviewer lD. Seriously, I think that was one of the best reviews I've ever received. :D To think that people are talking about my story IRL...that's both a scary and awesome thought. Maybe it's just scary awesome! XD Thank you for making my day, though. Here's more for your p**n-fest (I have a vague suspicion what the "**" stands for, but I'm not sure exactly...care to confirm?) Out of curiosity, exactly what do you talk about? I mean, there really isn't that much to...hell, this story can be summed up in "Axel is a douchebag, Demyx is a whiner, Zexion is a slut, and some of them are vampires and some of them are vampire slayers. The end."

I did choose to go with the Axel-centric chapter, although the first half of the chapter isn't so much about Axel. This is easily one of the more intense chapters, and where things really start...taking a downward spiral, so to speak. In particular, I must warn you all of the massive slaughter that is about to commence. Characters will be dropping left and right, starting from this chapter and continuing till the end of the story.

We have only two more chapters left and an epilogue! Keep on encouraging me with your wonderful reviews; this is the first time a story of mine has gotten such a response. ^^ (Now, if only my fictionpress could as well...) After _Tainted, _I probably won't do much in the way of fanfic anymore, except for maybe occasionally updating _A More Imperfect Union _(and finishing _Through a Mirror, _of course). I'll be pooling most of my energy into a massive, epic original project of mine, **Broken Memory**, which I want you all to check out once I get it started.

* * *

Luxord could hear the sounds of battle in the distance, even though he was almost halfway across the pier now. Muffled snarls, thumps, screeches, roars, the clash of metal. Whatever was going on there...it was a close fight. He didn't have much time or attention to spare on the fight, though.

"Hurry!" he cried, gesturing after him. "Don't fall back! Follow me!"

"You sure he doesn't need our help?" Kadaj shouted. He was running after Luxord, though paused occasionally to spin around and stare at the warehouse as if he wanted to join the battle. Well, of course he did. He was a vampire, and lived for shedding blood.

So simple, so crude, just like any vampire. Even the Superior was not immune. In the end, he was exactly like his mindless minions--merely an animal constrained by his instincts. A predator without a thinking mind, like lions and tigers.

There was a reason that humans had almost extermined lions and tigers from this world...

Luxord allowed the ghost of a smile to flicker across his face. Those silly vampires, believing him one of them. And those ridiculous slayers, also thinking the same thing. Luxord lived for no man but himself. He would never let himself become the lapdog of monsters or brainless adrenaline junkies (as most vampire slayers were). He had something none of them did, and that was full possession of his wits. Not to mention a streak of good luck that, in all forty some years of his life, had yet to fail him.

"He doesn't need anything from us anymore, my boy," Luxord said jovially. He had reached the helicopter that he'd called before the battle had started, and threw open the door, gesturing for Kadaj to follow him in. "This is called cutting our losses. Getting out while the going is good."

"Are you sure?" Kadaj said skeptically. "What if he wins?"

Luxord laughed. Thankfully, he was far from the warehouse and the battle sounds, combined with the regular slap of waves against the pier, drowned out the noise. It wouldn't do for Xemnas to have heard, though in his current state the Superior probably couldn't do anything to stop him.

"My boy, he will not win. And even if he does, he'll be crippled beyond belief. Do you really want to lend your support to something like that? Join me, and you'll have riches, power, and glory. Unlike the dear Superior, _my _luck never fails."

"All right..." Kadaj said, frowning a little. He probably didn't think Luxord's words made much sense; then again, Luxord had already pinned him as the type who wasn't terribly bright. "All right, I'll come with you. If you really can bring the House of Jenova back to power, then...I won't protest."

"My boy, you don't know the half of what I can do," Luxord said. His smirk was practically devouring half of his face. "Now, let's get out of here."

Minutes later, the regular thwok-thwok of helicopter blades resounded through the air, and, unseen by all, Luxord and Kadaj made their getaway.

* * *

Step after step Xaldin took towards Zexion and Demyx. Zexion was standing in front of Demyx, his arms outstretched, Mephistopheles flapping a warning circle around him. He was putting on a brave face but he couldn't hide the shiver running down his spine as Xaldin came ever closer. He was terrified out of his mind, that much was clear--as terrified as Demyx was.

But Demyx, too, held his ground. It wouldn't be right to run away and leave Zexion behind. They'd both defend the other--wasn't that what lovers did? He never removed his eyes from Xaldin's cold face, much as he would have loved to, and clutched his gun even tighter, though his palms were now slick with sweat.

Xaldin looked as if he'd been fighting for some time--his long dark coat was ripped in spots, and his face...the lower half of his face, from his mouth to his chin, was gloved with shockingly crimson blood. He'd only just fed. His purple eyes were narrowed, glittering with macabre delight.

Oh, dear fucking lord in heaven. He was even more frightening than ever before. Demyx suppressed the sudden urge to pee in his pants.

"Well, well, well," Xaldin said, gazing intently at Zexion and then Demyx. "What do we have here?"

"Dilan," Zexion said, his voice strained. "If--if you do not wish to get hurt, then you will--will step aside."

Xaldin chuckled darkly. "Step aside? What nonsense is this? You think you can do something against me, little incubus? When I've felled far more impressive fighters than _you?"_

He stepped to the side and swept an arm beside him, gesturing directly towards--towards--

Marluxia. Demyx could only tell that the body was Marluxia because of the pinkish hair spread messily over the floor, and the broken pieces of a scythe laying helter-skelter atop his body. The rest of him was a mess of crimson blood, tattered cloth, glistening bone--it was a good thing his hair was covering his face, because Demyx really didn't want to see--he thought he saw an eyeball twitching on the ground next to the body--

Nausea rose in his throat; his knees felt ready to give way. "N-no, no, _no, _no, no--"

Zexion had gone paler as well, though he remained resolute. "That--don't think you can scare us with that."

"Can I? I think it speaks for itself," Xaldin said. "He was very strong, I will have to admit. One of the strongest I have faced. It took quite a bit to finally kill him...but that was very worth it. His blood was delicious."

"Y-you, you sick bastard!" Demyx squeaked. Reacting on instinct, he raised his gun and immediately popped off three shots directly towards Xaldin's chest.

Xaldin didn't bother to dodge the bullets, and it didn't matter because he didn't do anything besides flinch slightly when the bullets thudded into his chest and sent out a spray of dark blood. Strangely, seeing that flinch comforted Demyx in the most bizarre way. Saix and Xemnas hadn't reacted in the slightest to getting peppered with bullets. That Xaldin had showed that he was indeed weaker than them. Perhaps even defeatable...

Although the hope of _that _was very remote indeed. Demyx did his best to avoid glancing at Marluxia's corpse.

"Silly little toy," Xaldin said with a sighing exhalation. "I would have thought you would have learned not to do try that. Then again, you never did seem very bright..."

"We won't let you pass, rest assured," Zexion hissed, sinking into a crouch, his claws extended. "After that--after _that_--"

"Why should you care?" Xaldin said dispassionately. "He was a slayer. You should be rejoicing at his death...but then again, you _are _a traitor, Ienzo..."

"Silence," Zexion said, his voice quavering slightly. "That is _not _my name--"

"Really? But that is the name that you gave to me..." Xaldin stepped closer to Zexion, so that there were less than two feet between them. Fear spiked in Demyx's stomach--he had to something, _something _to protect Zexion, but his body couldn't move. He felt numb, as if his muscles had turned to ice.

_Not now, not now not now not now! Don't freeze up--_

A screech and a ruffle of feathers. Xaldin roared and stumbled back, clutching his hands to his face, upon which five bright red gashes had been opened up. Mephistopheles dove towards him again, screeching a battle cry, her talons extended.

Roaring inarticulately, Xaldin swiped at the air and his massive hand closed around Mephistopheles' body as if she were a baseball. The raven screeched a protest and tried to escape, but Xaldin tightened his grip, crushing and crushing, his eyes burning with savagery--Demyx heard popping and crunching--

Xaldin opened his hand and a limp ball of feathers fell towards the ground. It lay there, forlorn and unmoving, and soaked with blood.

"N-no..._no_..." Zexion whispered, kneeling in front of his fallen familiar. "No--no--_Mephistopheles!"_

"What an annoyance," Xaldin said with a scowl, wiping the blood away from his face. "I shouldn't have expected better from an incubus' familiar, of course..."

"You bastard, you _bastard," _Zexion said feverishly, lunging towards Xaldin. He sank his claws into the startled vampire's forearm and leaned forward as if he intended to rip out Xaldin's throat with his teeth--but Xaldin backhanded him dispassionately, sending his head rocking backwards like a bobblehead doll. Demyx squeaked in worried terror; the squeak became a scream when Xaldin shoved Zexion against the wall, clamping him in place by the throat.

"So silly," Xaldin said. "It was only a familiar...there is no need to be so sentimental. Such weakness doesn't befit a vampire, even a pathetic incubus like you."

"R-release me, _release _me," Zexion gasped, thrashing and writhing in Xaldin's grip, trying futilely to throw it off. "I'm w-warning you--"

"Warning me?" Xaldin lowered his voice to a silky whisper. "What can _you _do to me? Don't give threats that you can't back up, dear little Ienzo..."

He leaned close to Zexion, moving one hand to Zexion's face and stroking, once, twice. Zexion shivered and flinched and tried to draw away, but that just resulted in him bumping his head against the wall. Chuckling slightly, Xaldin flicked his tongue out and licked the underside of Zexion's jaw, before clamping his mouth there, sucking with unabashed pleasure...Zexion whimpered and shook his head, trying to dislodge Xaldin.

"Oh please, please, please--_no! _No, no--" His protests reached a fever pitch as Xaldin moved his hand down to Zexion's shirt, lifting the thin material to expose the snowy white expanse of his chest and stomach. Xaldin removed his mouth from Zexion's jaw, only to pull Zexion into a fierce and entirely one-sided kiss, all the while he ghosted his fingers down the exposed skin of Zexion's torso, leaving behind little pinkish marks where he prodded with his claws--Zexion was whimpering into Xaldin's mouth, writhing and squirming but unable to find any escape--

Sick horror and self-hatred rose inside Demyx. Here he was, just sitting back and _watching _his lover get violated. Helpless. No--he wouldn't accept it. He had to do something, _anything_--

He lifted the gun, his hands shaking, and shot directly at the back of Xaldin's head.

Xaldin roared, his head snapping back as if he'd been hit with a hammer. Not a hammer, though, but a bullet--a brilliant crimson hole appeared in the back of his head, perfect and round and dripping icy blood. It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was clear that that shot had injured him more than any before. He staggered back, releasing Zexion; the incubus slid limply against the wall like an empty sack, eyes wide in disbelief.

"D-damn you," Xaldin growled, whirling around to face Demyx. His expression was completely feral now, without a hint of intelligence. He looked, Demyx realized with a jolt of cold surprise, exactly like the monstrous made vampires to which Demyx was more accustomed.

Strangely that thought comforted Demyx. He saw now that Xaldin really wasn't anything special, wasn't much different and better than other vampires. In the end, he pretty much _was _a mindless monster. Demyx hefted his gun again, aiming it at Xaldin's forehead.

"You hurt him, you answer to me," he said.

"You dare--you dare--you _dare_--you pathetic _human!" _Xaldin roared, stomping straight towards Demyx, his claws extended--Demyx gasped and stumbled backwards.

And bumped into something squishy. A vine, thicker than the rest, spread across the floor. He squeaked and then screamed aloud when he saw that he was standing right next to a massive thorn that had impaled straight through a made vampire. Blood was splattered all over the vine, staining its dark green surface like blots of ink.

He had no idea what he was doing, contemplating the vine while Xaldin advanced towards him--by all means he should just vault over the vine and put it between him and Xaldin. But when he'd bumped against the vine, he'd felt--something. He could only explain it as a hot burst of rage. And the vine had moved a little, jerking away from his foot...

They were furious, the vines. He swept his eyes around the entire hall in sick wonder. The vines were all moving now, wriggling and writhing and snaking down the walls and across the floor, towards--towards Xaldin.

They wanted revenge. For their master's death. And somehow...Demyx had given them impetus.

"Demyx! What are you doing, just standing there--" Zexion shouted, surging forward,

Demyx paid no heed to any of them anymore, neither Zexion nor Xaldin. As Xaldin dove towards him, bringing back his hand as if he meant to impale Demyx with his claws, Demyx nimbly leapt over the thickest vine. This position left him somewhat more vulnerable, since it trapped in the tiny piece of floor between the vine and the wall--a perfect target for Xaldin. Zexion seemed to recognize this and screamed something that sounded like Demyx's name.

But Demyx wasn't worried. Far from it. For as Xaldin approached, the vine moved, lashing towards the vampire like an enormous snake. Xaldin cried out in surprised indignity as the thick vine wrapped around his legs, sending him off balance. He crashed face-first on the floor with an impact that shook the hallway.

Xaldin immediately writhed and cursed, trying to throw off the vine. But more vines were coming, descending on him in a deluge of writhing green, their long thorns glistening with purplish liquid--poison. More and more and more, coming to avenge their fallen master. They wrapped around the thrashing vampire, digging their thorns into his body, tightening and constricting around him until he was no longer visible--he was cocooned in vines.

And still, against all odds and reason, he fought. He must have been impaled by at least five poisoned thorns by now, and more vines were coming by the minute to wrap around him, yet he continued to thrash and snarl inarticulately--sometimes he managed to momentarily free his arms or legs from the vines, and once even managed to free his head. The vines, Demyx realized with a dull sinking feeling, weren't enough.

Xaldin was truly a powerful vampire. Perhaps not on Xemnas and Saix's level, but he was still indeed too great a threat for just the masterless vines to subdue.

Demyx raised his gun and fired a few shots into the writhing mass, taking care to shoot only when some of Xaldin was revealed, to minimize the risk of shooting the vines--he certainly didn't want them to turn against him!

Blood arced in the air after Demyx's shots and Xaldin's roars died into choked gurgles. Hope leapt for a sudden second in Demyx's stomach--maybe this was working after all.

"No, no, no, _no--" _the vampire bellowed. "I will not--this is--_impossible! _I will not _allow _this! You're just--a human--slayers--dead--"

His voice died in a final extended gurgling exhalation, and then he went limp. For several seconds that stretched into a long eternity, Demyx stared at the now still mass of vines. They were leaking purple poison and dark blood, dripping in a puddle on the floor. At length, the vines lowered to the floor again, and one by one retreated, some of then unsticking their thorns with loud squelching noises.

Soon all the vines were gone, returned to their proper places on the walls and floor. Xaldin's corpse was all that remained, sprawled in the middle of the poison and blood puddle. He was so ruined as to be unrecognizable. Huge bloody holes, leaking little spurts of poison, were peppered throughout his body, where the thorns had stuck in. His limbs were spread this way and that in impossible angles, clearly broken. A bullet hole to his forehead was leaking blood in dark rivulets down his pale face, and his expression was frozen in a look of wide-eyed horror.

Dead...he was dead. The vampire who had kidnapped Demyx, who had--who had pretty much started this all. Demyx's head spun. Xaldin was dead. He, Demyx, had struck the killing blow.

He'd...he'd done it. He'd slain a pureblood vampire.

"Oh God...oh my God..." he whispered, feeling lightheaded and ill. "Oh God...I c-can't believe...I can't believe..."

He sank to his knees; one of the vines shuffled slightly to the left to allow him more room. He let out a choked little laugh. Even after death, Marluxia was looking out for him. "Oh God, oh God...thank you so much."

He heard a sharp gasp and then a little sob somewhere behind him. Alarmed, Demyx whirled around--to see that Zexion had fallen to his knees as well, in front of Mephistopheles' body. He'd wrapped his arms around his torso and had lowerd his head so that his hair was hiding his eyes from scrutiny, but he couldn't control the sobs shaking his thin frame.

"Zexy!" Demyx cried in concern, stumbling towards his lower. "Zexy--it's all right, it's, it's all right, he's gone now..."

Or was Zexion grieving Mephistopheles' death? That struck Demyx as a little bit over-the-top for Zexion, of all people. He didn't think that the incubus cared about anyone enough to cry when they died, and certainly not like _this..._

"Zexy? What's the matter?" Demyx said softly, resting his hand on Zexion's shoulder. The incubus turned sharply and looked up towards him. His face was paler than usual and his eyes were wide and his mouth was quivering. A shining line of tears ran from the corner of his exposed eye down his cheek. Demyx reached out and wiped away Zexion's tears, patting Zexion affectionately with the hand on his shoulder.

"D-Demyx," Zexion managed to say.

"Zexion, tell me," Demyx said. "What's the matter? Is it--is it 'cause Mephistopheles is dead--"

Zexion shook his head and coughed skeptically. "Hardly. Well, that--it is...a part of it."

"Really? Then what..."

"It...it's nothing r-really, it's just I...I just feel so...so fucking _useless," _Zexion said in a savage whisper, turning away from Demyx again. "Useless. Y-you...you could do it, could do _something_, even Mephistopheles...but I...I just...I shrank back. Froze. Did nothing. I _let _him--if you hadn't, if it wasn't for you, he'd have--he'd have--he--"

His voice broke at the end, trailing off into a little whimper. He was fingering the front of his shirt, perhaps remembering how Xaldin had almost violated him. Sympathy rose within Demyx, and he draped an arm around Zexion's shoulder, pulling the incubus in close. Zexion unleashed a shuddering gasp but leaned closer to Demyx as well, resting his head on Demyx's shoulder. He felt nice and soft and delightfully cool. _Zexion._

"It's all right, Zexion," Demyx said. "You're not useless. I swear, you're not. Everyone--everyone has moments of indecision." A dry laugh. "_I _should know."

"All the same," Zexion murmured. "All the same...I shouldn't have. I shouldn't...I told myself I would be the one protecting _you."_

"What, it can't work both ways?" Demyx said gently.

"I...I guess...but I, I promise, Demyx. I won't freeze up like this again. I promise." When he looked back up, his eyes were flashing and his mouth was set in a firm line of conviction. The tears were still shimmering on his face but he hadn't shed any more.

"I understand," Demyx said, reaching out and stroking the sides of Zexion's face, reveling in the cool softness of the vampire's skin. "It's okay. Come on, Zexy. Let's go..."

"Right." Zexion jerked his head in a nod. Demyx stood and extended a hand towards the incubus; Zexion took it wordlessly. They remained holding hands even as they stood and began walking down the hall, taking care to avoid Xaldin's corpse.

As they passed Marluxia's body, Demyx felt a strange sense of wrongness. It didn't feel right to just leave the fallen slayer where he was. He had died a hero, fighting a vampire. To leave him lying there with his weapon broken all over him, like a piece of carrion, felt like the ultimate disrespect.

"Wait," Demyx said, tugging on Zexion's hand to get him to stop. Zexion threw him a brief annoyed glance.

"What is it?"

"Marluxia...I mean, do you think it's...I just don't think we should leave him there. Like that," Demyx said.

"Demyx, I highly doubt you'd want to touch that," Zexion snapped, gesturing towards Marluxia's battered corpse. Demyx stared at it, at the puddle of blood spreading beneath it, the various squishy shapes--_organs?_--scattered around it, and gulped.

"Well, I still think that we should try to give him a proper burial," Demyx insisted. "At least, for Larxene's sake--"

"We haven't got time to do such a thing," Zexion said.

"But still--"

Zexion sighed, his expression softening. "We'll come back to him, Demyx. For now, we have to...we have to get going...that's the best way, I think, to avenge his death. Stopping Xemnas. Wouldn't you agree?"

Demyx couldn't argue with that kind of logic. Nonetheless, even as he followed Zexion down the hallway, he couldn't help but throw one last glance at Marluxia. The fallen warrior, dead in the midst of his plants.

"Thank you," he whispered.

* * *

Xemnas paced back and forth in his office, his hands folded behind his back, focusing on nothing in particular.

He could sense the battle raging outside his cloistered office walls, but didn't focus overly much on it. He trusted Saix and Xaldin and all of his lieutenants. They would fight, and they would win. That was a foregone conclusion.

The other slayers were all distractions, nothing more. They would fall eventually. Perhaps not instantaneously--he had to admit they possessed _some _skill--but in the end none of them would succeed. How could they defeat the vampires of the most powerful coven in the world? They were barely anything to Saix and Xaldin--and they counted as nothing at all to Xemnas.

No. There was only one opponent who could give him a worthy challenge. Only one about whom he was concerned.

He sensed the presence then, the familiar scent of overwhelming darkness that he'd first encountered that fateful night in the plaza. This time, however, Xemnas didn't allow himself to become overwhelmed in fear and confusion as he had then. Now he knew who he was facing--not some frightening monster from the dark. Simply his old mentor, dressed up differently but as foolish and incompetent as ever.

Xemnas could defeat him easily.

The door opened, seemingly on its own. Xemnas hid the urge to chuckle. So it seemed that Ansem was trying to show off his powers. As if that'd intimidate Xemnas! Opening doors psionically was quite a useful ability, yes, but it would never win anyone any fights.

Ansem himself then stepped through the door.

He stood there in his new guise, in the blood-colored robes that flowed resplendently around his form, his face mostly hidden by bandages of the same material. He stood calmly with his hands clasped in front of him, but his amber eyes were cold with a fierce, deadly resolve. A resolve that Xemnas had only once before seen from Ansem, the night when he had fought and--or so he had believed--killed his former mentor.

"Greetings, Master Ansem," Xemnas said in a tone of deep irony. "What brings you here tonight?"

"I have no time for games," Ansem said, stepping forward. "Tonight, I promise you--I will put an end to your madness."

Xemnas chuckled darkly. "I would like to see you _try_, my dear teacher."

"Believe me," Ansem said, his eyes flashing, "I _will."_

* * *

Another spray of icy blood. Another dull thud as another made vampire impacted the floor. Another bout of snarling and roaring from its comrades, who surged forward--

Axel shot expertly at them with two guns, sending them stumbling back and falling from mortal injuries. Back-to-back with him, grim-faced, was Roxas, who was holding his own firing shots into the mob. From their combined efforts, more and more vampires fell.

Yet it wasn't enough. More vampires simply came pouring in to fill the gaps left by their fallen fellows. It seemed that every time Axel and Roxas took out one, two more took its place. Axel wasn't in any danger of running out of ammo anytime soon--and in any event, he'd perfected his ability at rapid-fire reloading--but his arms were getting tired from constantly firing the gun and the injuries he'd sustained fighting, including a particularly nasty gash on his shoulder, were slowing him down.

He would keep on fighting, though. Fighting this army of grunts--until they led to the real target. To Xemnas.

The Cross of the Kingdom helped somewhat. The vampires tended to keep a clear berth from it, giving him a good range from which he could shoot. Sometimes when they got too close, they actually staggered back, roaring in pain and rage from the cross' protective spells.

But the cross had a negative side as well. Axel was trying to keep back-to-back with Roxas, so that they could better cover more area when it came to shooting the vampires, but he couldn't because of the cross on his back. If it made skin contact with Roxas...hell, Roxas might even die if that happened. Already, he was pale and his eyes bloodshot and he was barely standing upright, though he did his best to put up a strong front. Whenever he came too close to Axel--too close to the cross--he would double over as if racked with pain, and stumble blindly forward in an effort to avoid the pain.

Seeing Roxas like this hurt Axel beyond imagination. He could tell himself however much he wanted that Roxas wasn't a vampire, but that didn't make it truth. He wished it, desperately. That Roxas had never gotten drawn into Zexion's insidious workings. That he could still be the good-natured street boy whom he had first taken in, not this bitter half-made vampire.

Axel could deny it, but not when it was staring him directly in the face as it was now. He knew. He knew what Roxas was--and that was why he couldn't stay close to the boy. Not if he wanted Roxas to live...

_However much longer he has to live. _Axel knew full well the lifespan--or lack thereof--of a half-made vampire. Once again, as he did often, he mentally cursed Zexion to a thousand eternities in hell.

Something dove free of the roiling mass of pasty faces and claws and blood--something huge and furry and snarling. Axel bellowed inarticulately and fired off two shots at the diving form. Squealing, the wolf hit the concrete in front of Axel's foot, gushing hot blood onto the already well-stained floor.

Werewolves. Shit. More were appearing, slinking one by one out of the crowd of made vampires. There were far fewer of them than the made vampires, but that didn't matter because one werewolf possessed the intelligence of ten made vampires, if not more. Nine of them formed a circle around Axel and Roxas, glaring at the two slayers with fierce golden eyes.

"Okay, okay, we get it," Axel said roughly. "We're cornered. Now, where the hell is your pack leader?"

"Right here, Axel," Saix said, and stepped through the mob of vampires. He locked eyes with Axel and a feral smirk unlike any Axel had seen from him before sliced his face in two. "As I recall, I have yet to exact revenge on you for killing two of my pack members..."

"Revenge up your ass," Axel quipped--and fired three shots, one after another, directly at Saix's heart.

* * *

_He's the new hope of the La Monte family, or so they say. Father can't resist reminding him of that, every opportunity he can get. He places his hands on Axel's shoulders and tells him that the family will be his one day. He'll show them all, those Strifes and Marchens and Florezes. He'll show them just which family is the best at vampire slaying._

_It's a bit of a burden for an six-year-old but Axel doesn't mind. He wants to be the best too. He's seen Father and Mother fight and he wishes that he could be just like them. Just as calm and in control. Just as capable of delivering cool one-liners. That's why he practices so intently, every day. Drilling in the decapacitation and staking methods. Practicing warding and blessing spells._

_One day he'll get to fight a vampire for real. He hopes that day will come very soon._

_

* * *

_

Axel had lost Saix in the crowd. He was certain the werewolf wasn't dead--hell, Saix had taken plenty more shots than that in their last meeting--but for the life of him, even as he scanned the milling mob of dark-clothed, pasty-skinned, blood-stained vampires, he couldn't find a single hint of pale blue fur.

There were plenty other werewolves about, howling and leaping at him--one of them had clamped on to his elbow, biting so hard he had cut through to the bone. Axel had killed the werewolf by swinging his arm around so that the wolf slammed against the Cross of the Kingdom (it seemed the cross worked equally as well on werewolves as it did on vampires), but his arm was bleeding copiously. The improvised tourniquet he'd made was rapidly falling apart in the heat of battle; he could no longer use that arm at all, so he had to settle for shooting with one gun.

He heard a strangled cry in the near distance--a cry that was horrifying because it was so familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. Roxas' voice, yet raised to a pitch of panic and agony unlike any he'd head before from the boy. Immediately Axel abandoned his search for Saix and dashed towards the source of Roxas' voice, shooting aside any vampires or wolves who got in his way.

Roxas' shouts reached a fever pitch. "_Axel--"_

"Hang in there, Roxas! I'm coming!" Axel howled, hoping with all his heart that Roxas could hear him over the general pandemonium. "_I'm coming!"_

* * *

_People tell him that he's handling his parents' death well, especially for a kid his age. Only nine years old and his mother and father are dead. Killed by a pureblood vampire._

_The thing is, Axel has always known that his parents would die in the line of duty someday. That was one of the first things they'd ever impressed on him. Their own mortality. Most slayers died in battle, that was just something they all accepted. Axel hadn't been expecting his parents to die at the same time, but he'd spent a long time steeling himself to accept their eventual deaths, anyhow._

_So he doesn't cry or grieve in front of anyone, just tries to arrange the running of the family manor as best a kid like him can. He has help, of course, but he makes it clear that he's the master of the manor. The heir of his parents' _everything. _Only at night when he visits his parents' graves and delivers them flowers does he let himself feel it, and never for long._

* * *

Roxas lay on his back on the ground, groaning in pain, still resolutely clutching his gun. He couldn't aim it, though, because his eyes were squeezed tightly shut--from pain.

Saix, in his wolf form, was gnawing on Roxas' leg from the knee downwards. Blood was dripping from his maw and he was making horrible crunching and munching noises--there was so much blood, spreading in a pool beneath Roxas' leg--Roxas' face was pale with strain, beads of sweat were standing out against his skin--occasionally he let loose with long, high-pitched cries of agony--

Rage and worry and self-hatred coalesced in one inside Axel. How dare Saix--how could this happen--this was _his _fault--

He shot blindly, not thinking about what he was doing at all. His bullets opened up scarlet holes on Saix's flank but still the horrible werewolf continued chomping on Roxas' leg, in fact chomped with renewed fervor. Axel was roaring and bellowing, screaming inarticulate things, cursing Saix, cursing Zexion, cursing himself, cursing the whole damned world--

More shots he fired at Saix, until nothing came from his gun but an empty click when he pressed the trigger. In rage, he dove towards the blue wolf, who kept on munching, kept on chewing, kept on tearing bits of flesh from Roxas's leg--from Roxas--_Roxas--_

He wrapped his working hand around the wolf's neck and squeezed, feeling the bones crunch beneath his fingers, smelling nothing but the wolf's hideous musk stench. He snarled and panted and tried to yank the wolf's heavy body off his lover, but Saix _absolutely refused to let go. _He barely seemed to be registering Axel's presence in the slightest.

"Dammit--damn you--" Axel was screaming, almost sobbing. "Get off him, get off, _get off_--"

* * *

_The kid is called Demyx. The little blonde kid with the big blue eyes. He doesn't look much different from any little kid his age, but there still seems to be something a little off about him. Maybe it's because his eyes don't have that sort of clear and innocent look to them that most kids have. There's something...closed...about them. Like he's staring into a wall, not a clear pool._

_Axel doesn't mind, though. Demyx's eyes remind him of his own. Hell, _Demyx _reminds him of himself. The kid watched his parents die. His parents fell to a vampire. Just like Axel's did._

_"I think you should be my student," he tells Demyx._

_Demyx nods, and says with whispered conviction, "Yeah."_

* * *

Saix had finally released Roxas. It had taken Axel slamming the gun directly into the back of his head--apparently, even Saix couldn't handle that much concentrated silver--but he'd done it. Now the Saix-wolf was facing him, hackles raised, snarling. His muzzle was stained with blood and bloodied saliva was dripping from his open mouth, coating his teeth. Piezes of flesh were still stuck between his teeth...

Axel didn't want to look. He didn't want to look at the mangled mess that Roxas' leg had become. He didn't want--he didn't want any of that. He just wanted to focus on protecting Roxas, or whatever was left of Roxas. On defeating Saix...

That was just him being in denial again, wasn't it? Refusing to face a sordid truth. Roxas wasn't going to survive, no matter what he did--

_Don't be such a damned defeatist! Don't--never doubt. _Never _doubt. That's what _they _taught you, your parents. NEVER DOUBT._

_I am always right. In all my actions, in all my thoughts. Everything I do is justified. Because I am...because I am me. _

_A vampire slayer. Axel La Monte. I AM ALWAYS JUSTIFIED._

"Damn you to fucking _hell!" _Axel bellowed, and charged towards Saix, swinging the Cross of the Kingdom.

* * *

_Axel is glad that Demyx can't see him. He stands in the middle of the plaza on this moonless night, gazing at the inky sky, his hands gloved with freezing, rapidly-drying blood._

_The vampire--or what is left of it--lies at his feet. He killed it methodically. Not the way his parents had taught him, but the way that felt _right. _He hacked off its arms and legs. Then its head. Then cut its torso into pieces. Then ripped out its heart and drove a silver-tipped stake through it. The vampire is dead. The pureblood vampire that took his parents' lives._

_It took him three years to exact his revenge, but he doesn't mind. He got it. He is now a true vampire slayer, a _man.

_So why...why...why is he so ashamed of letting Demyx know?_

* * *

Saix roared, staggering under Axel's onslaught. Axel attacked him like he'd never attacked anyone before. Viciously lashing back and forth with the Cross, slamming it into the wolf's fur until the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils, displacing even Saix's musk stench, until the blinding light of the spells woven into the silver filled his vision, displacing everything--

He didn't care anymore, about anything. About anything except for Roxas, lying injured and unmoving only feet from him. Roxas--for Roxas--anything--always justified, he was always justified--to do this--

Blood sprayed in the air as Axel whapped Saix across the jaw with the cross. Broken pieces of something hard and white--like shattered pearls--clattered against the floor. Teeth.

Saix leapt up in, snarling in rage, his tongue lolling out, spitting blood and fury. Pain shot through Axel's chest as Saix's claws raked across his chest, but he was barely conscious of the pain. It was piddling compared to the agony Roxas must be in. If anything, it only incensed him.

He lurched towards Saix again but Saix was faster. An impact like a freight train slammed into the backs of his knees, sending him pitching forward on his face. He yelled as he impacted the cold, blood-streaked concrete, unable to get up because Saix's oppressive weight was on his back, pinning him down--Saix was scratching him, raking him with his claws, over and over again--Axel felt flesh tearing, blood streaking down his skin--felt hot bursts of pain--

It didn't matter, it didn't matter, none of it mattered. _Roxas. _Roxas was all that mattered. He wouldn't let down Roxas, never would _never would_. Would never let down Roxas as he had let down Demyx.

He tightened his grip around the Cross of the Kingdom, and it flared anew with white light, blinding him and harming Saix, if the wolf's howl of pain was anything to go by. It was enough of a diversion for Axel to twist his arm over his shoulder and whip the Cross out behind him. He heard the satisfactory dull thunk as the silver impacted Saix's fur, heard Saix's howl reach a fever pitch--

It was nothing the wolf didn't deserve. And there would be more, so much more, coming.

* * *

_Demyx is in tears when they get home. Axel does his best to comfort the younger boy, reassure him everything's all right even when it isn't. He pats Demyx on the back, offers him hollow reassurances. "Don't worry so much, everyone messes up the first time..." But Demyx's disappointment is palpable. The instant they return to the manor, Demyx stalks off to his room and slams the door behind him, not even bothering to hand his blood-stained jacket to the butler. Axel, concerned, stands outside Demyx's door for some time, listening to the younger boy. Listening to him sob and whimper and gasp. Axel has never heard anyone so miserable before._

_And worst of all, he knows it's his fault. For setting such a high example for Demyx. He was twelve when he made his first pureblood kill, not much older than Demyx is now. Naturally Demyx would expect to catch up to his mentor...but it's impossible. Not just because Axel has years more experience._

_It's because...of something neither of them can change. That's not all right, but Axel can't do anything about it._

_

* * *

_

Axel stood above Saix's limp form, breathing hard, conscious of nothing but the Cross clutched tightly in one hand. The Cross, and the wolf.

Saix wasn't dead yet, Axel could tell--his chest was still regularly rising and falling, though much more slowly than it had been before. He could hardly tell that the wolf had once been blue-furred; whatever inch of fur wasn't left blackened by the Cross was soaked red with blood. One of his legs and quite a few of his ribs were broken.

He would die soon, whether or not Axel struck him a finishing blow. Not that Axel was in the best of conditions, either. The wounds Saix had left behind on his body weren't deep, but they were dripping a lot of blood. A _lot _of blood. Most of the blood staining the concrete floor wasn't Saix's but his own; he was already starting to feel dizzy, lightheaded. Weak. But he couldn't give in, not now. He had Roxas...Roxas to attend to. Roxas was in so much worse a condition than he was. If Roxas could handle it, then he could too.

"Rox..." Axel murmured, turning contemptuously away from Saix and taking tentative step after tenative step towards his lover. Towards Roxas, limp on the other side of the room--as limp as Saix. Unmoving. Laying in a puddle of his own blood.

Roxas. Axel's throat tightened. No. He couldn't--he _wouldn't _let this happen. Everything always worked out for him, because he never doubted. He believed in his own strength, and that strength would save Roxas. It would, it would _have _to, or else--or else--or everything would have been--

_Everything _would have been a lie.

* * *

_One early morning Axel finds himself lying beside Demyx, both stark naked and sweat-soaked and the sheets a tangled mess around them. He can't even think to regret anything, can't think at all--when he tries to grasp what happened it slips from his mind like sand from an open hand. No, not slips, but rather...he's afraid to face it. The _enormity _of it all. How could he have done that? Yet here he is, lying by his student after a passionate night together and he doesn't feel anything, particularly, except for a strange contentment that he can't explain. Nor does he really want to. Slowly he turns to face Demyx, taking in the boy's sweet and content face, his tan skin so unlike Axel's own pallor, blond strands drifting in front of closed eyes. He's dreaming, and they seem to be happy dreams._

_Axel doesn't dare disturb those dreams. He turns to the side, stares out of the window. Thinks for a while. "That's okay with me, then," he says. "That you're here, and I'm here--and that's all that matters."_

* * *

"Axel...Ax...el...ohh...please..." Roxas groaned. Axel could see the pain it was causing him just to enunciate those simple words; he was shaking, paler than anyone Axel had seen before. Not even the typical pallor of a vampire, but something beyond that--a whiteness that reminded Axel of untouched snow. The whiteness of death.

He sank to his knees in front of Roxas, forced himself to stare at Roxas' injured leg. Saix had...Saix had chewed him down to the bone. Much of the flesh had been torn off in great chunks--what was left behind was nothing but a mangled mess of muscle and tendon and blood, so much blood. Blood shockingly red, spreading everywhere, staining the bone a deep, deep crimson.

Tears blurred Axel's vision; he let them fall, trailing hot and stinging down his face. But that was just a minor pain, an inconvenience, compared to the pain Roxas must be in. Roxas was...Roxas was...

Dying.

_No! Don't! Don't you dare admit it. It's not true. He won't die! You can save him still, you know you can--don't let him down--you can do it, YOU can do it! Who are you again?_

Nobody.

He had the power to prevent his own death, but never the deaths of those most precious. His mother. His father. His lover. They would all fall and he'd be powerless to stop them. The tears came harder, but he forced himself to be calm. To not sob. He was sure there had to be something--_anything_--he could do...

"Roxas, you'll be fine, got it memorized? You'll be fine, oh you'll be fine, just keep talking to me, kiddo, keep talking...please, stay awake, stay awake. You'll be fine..."

He didn't believe at all what he was saying, but he knew he _had _to. It was essential. Otherwise, the house of cards he'd long built for himself--the house made up of lies and denial, always denial, would come crashing down around him, and he would have...nothing. No Roxas. No Demyx. No one. Just himself, and he didn't want to be left in such horrible company.

"Stay with me, Roxas," he whispered, clutching Roxas' icy hand, squeezing it tightly as if he hoped to infuse it with his own warmth. "Just--stay with me. Oh Roxas..."

* * *

_"You have no power. None. There is _nothing _you can do. Isn't that what you're afraid of? You're such a big strong slayer, with your stakes and silver bullets. You can do _anything, _can't you?"_

_The incubus whispers into his ear, his voice low and intoxicating. Like poisoned wine. He ghosts his pale fingers down Axel's bare chest, raising goosebumps; he's snaked his body around Axel's so that his mouth is right next to Axel's ear. Sometimes, between the cold bursts of whispered words, he flicks his tongue over the shell of Axel's ear, making the half-asleep slayer tremble._

_"That's what you're afraid of. Letting them down. The ones you care about...you're afraid, aren't you? That you're impotent. That you lack the power to protect them as you know they would protect you. All this power, my dear slayer, and you can't _use _it for anything constructive. Pitiful thing..."_

_He is right. Every word. And that's why, later, he punishes Zexion so badly for it. Because if he doesn't take his anger out on Zexion, all that will happen is that it will turn inwards. Towards _himself. _He can't handle that. Not yet. Him, who is always justified. Him, for whom things always turn out the right way._

_Zexion is wrong. He is right. That's all there is to it._

* * *

"Axel...please...it's...o...okay..." Roxas whispered. His hand had gone slack in Axel's; in a fit of terror, Axel clung on tighter. No, he had to make sure Roxas was still here, still alive... "Y-you can...let go...now..."

"No! Never, I'll never let go! Never, never, _never, _got it fucking memorized?" Axel wasn't shouting so much as sobbing, his voice raw and high-pitched in desperation. "You'll be _fine, _we'll just get this patched up--"

"Axel." Roxas laughed, a short, rough little laugh that was more like a series of harsh wheezes. "Oh, please...don't de...delude yourself. You know...even if it wasn't for...this...I would be...I would die soon...anyway...half-made, you know..."

"You're not a vampire," Axel sobbed, brokenly. Hating himself, because he knew he was speaking a lie. "You're not..."

"Say that...if it makes...you feel better..." A sad smile was shining in Roxas' blue eyes, those beautiful blue eyes which Axel couldn't get enough of. "You're...very good at that...Axel...pretending...the bad things...don't exist...but..."

"_You're not dying! Shut up!" _

"I...I am. Saying th-that...I won't...that won't...accomplish...anything. You can't pretend...that I...I won't..."

"Is it really all pretend?" Axel said, his voice barely breaking a whisper. "Really? My feelings for you, even? Is that pretend? _Fucking tell me! _I've never loved anyone like I love you, dammit. How is that _pretend?"_

"It's...not..." Roxas said. "I know...it isn't...pretend. But sometimes...you...I don't think you...want to accept...the more unpleasant things. I..._am_...a vampire. And I..._am_...going...to die."

"How can you say it like that?" Axel said. "So _calmly? _You can't--you can't accept it! I'm telling you, I won't allow it--"

"You're...just a man...Axel..."

"_I am not! _I'm the heir of the La Monte family, got it fucking memorized? I can do anything--_anything_--because of who I am. I won't stop for...for something stupid like death, and you're not dying, anyway! Anything, I swear, Roxas, anything--"

"No...y...you can't..." Roxas' eyes fell shut for a heart-stopping second, but thankfully he soon opened them. "You can't...stop it...please, Axel. For me...a last request? Please...?"

"Anything, Roxas," Axel said again, pressing his face to Roxas' chest, ignoring how cold the boy's skin was through his shirt, ignoring the lack of a heartbeat... "Anything, anything for you. Just so long as I don't lose you."

_Like I lost my parents. Like I lost Demyx. Hell...like I lost Zexion._

"Oh...Axel..." Another broken laugh from Roxas. He'd moved his hand so that it was resting on the back of Axel's neck, gently playing with the strands of hair there. "Promise me...just this one time...remove your blindfold."

"What blindfold? What the fuck are you _talking _about? Don't be going insane on me now, _please_--"

"I'm...not. I'm...just saying...just this once...let yourself see...the truth. As it..._is_, not as it..._should _be." Roxas coughed slightly, but went on with firm conviction. "See...it. And...accept it. You're...not...very...good...at that. This time...please..."

"I can't, I won't," Axel sobbed, squeezing Roxas' hand tighter. "I don't want to. I hate the truth. I _hate _it, I hate it I _hate it! _You don't understand. This world fucking sucks, the way it is. I l-like it better, the way it ought to be. That's better. I don't want to see what's in front of me, all the pain and shit and fucking misery--I want to see, I want to see, you and me, both humans, both happy...I want to see Demyx happy too, I want Zexion to have never happened, I want, I want, I want..."

"You can't...have that...Axel."

"I know! I _know! _But I want it, I want it. I hate the truth," Axel whimpered. He knew he was being pathetic and he was scaring even himself--this was the first time he'd ever admitted his real feelings, because before he always kept them suppressed. As part of, hell, the inconvenient truth of the world that he didn't want to face. He would rather prefer maintaining his daily delusion.

Because if he didn't...then that meant he would have to see him as he _really _was. A failure. A man who'd let down his parents and every student he'd ever taken in. A man who had truly done nothing right in the space of his life. His parents were moldering under cold earth because of him. Demyx was completely fucked up in the head because of him. Roxas was...Roxas was a vampire because of him.

It was so much easier clinging to the world in which he was always right and justified, and everything wrong was that stupid incubus' fault. But Zexion had been right, all along, and conversely--Axel had always been wrong. Always.

"Don't die. I don't want you to die. I don't want to lose you. I love you, Roxas. I want you to live forever, just you and me..." He was shaking from his sobs, clinging so tightly to Roxas he knew he was hurting the boy, but he didn't care anymore. He never wanted to let go.

"I--I know, Axel. I know...I...I love you...too. But we can't...have that...never could."

"Please, if you leave me I'll be all alone--"

"You won't..." Roxas smiled briefly, but so lovingly. "Demyx...you'll have Demyx...and everyone. Not just me..."

"But it's not the same!"

"I know...it's not. But wishing...doesn't change the way things...are. If I have...one last...wish for you...it would be...that you would _know. _That you would..._see. _Oh, Axel...it would just be...the gift of knowing...that you're wrong...and admitting it...and living with it...and being able to face...the world every day. My gift...to you...if I had the power to...I'd give you...that."

He gazed into Axel's eyes, still smiling, but now there was a painful aspect to that smile. And his eyes...they were filmed over with tears, shining in the dim warehouse light, but he resolutely refused to shed them.

"Goodbye, Axel," he said, his voice barely above a whisper--hell, barely above a breath. "I love you."

"I love you too, hell, I love you so much I--" Axel found himself choked on his sobs and couldn't continue; he had to swallow a painful lump down, several times, before he found his voice again. With each swallow he became increasingly conscious of time slipping by, leaving him alone--Roxas had only seconds left. He had to make the most of his remaining time... "I love you, I love you, even if--if we didn't know, even if we didn't even know each other that long, even if we realized too late--I still, I want to, I won't forget every moment we spent together. I promise. I'll remember...I'll commit you to my memory. Forever. Roxas."

"Axel," Roxas murmured, his eyelids drifting shut. "Hayner....Pence...Olette...Axel...Axel...Ax...el..."

His breath trailed off into a final sigh, and then he lay there, slumped and still and silent. His hand had gone completely limp. His skin was as white and cold as arctic ice.

Axel pulled Roxas closer to him, pressing the boy's face into his chest, holding him so tightly he was only seconds away from breaking Roxas' bones, but he didn't care, that didn't matter now. All that mattered was trying to, for one last, futile time, warm Roxas up, back from the iciness of death, the iciness of undeath, to the vibrant warmth that had coursed under his skin during his too-brief time as a living, breathing human being. He pressed Roxas' face right up to his heart, wanting Roxas, even now, to _feel _more than hear the violent thudding. To let it become _his _as well.

He clung to Roxas, clung to the cold dead truth, and screamed his lover's name to the warehouse rafters until he could scream no longer.

* * *

Yes, Roxas is dead.

Whew, that AkuRoku scene took a _lot _out of me. I hate AkuRoku so writing every second of it was excruciating. Still, I kind of do like the way it turned out--and hey, we finally get Axel's POV! I've been waiting to write from his perspective for a long, long time, because even as much as I dislike him I think he's the most interesting character in this story. In particular, I've been itching to really, in depth, explore his capacity for self-deception, which I think I handled very well here. Plus, he's got quite the "Never compromise, not even in the face of Armageddon" side to him. XD Although, Rorschach would wipe the floor with Axel and YOU KNOW IT.

The AkuRoku section was written to the Voice of the Future Sanctuary Remix, which you should all check out on Youtube because it's awesome. You know what else you should check out because it's awesome? That's right, my fictionpress.

Sorry about the lack of a preview, I'll get one up once I have a clearer idea what the next chapter will be like. =/

Keep those reviews coming! We're on the home stretch here! ^^


	29. Tainted

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_29. Tainted_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene, Cleon

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, GRAPHIC SCENES, CHARACTER DEATH, OVERALL WEIRDNESS, SCADS OF VIOLENCE

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Feels like forever since I updated, huh? But I am making good on my promise to finish this - expect it to be done by the end of summer, at the longest. We only have one chapter and an epilogue to go.

It seems the new formatting on this site messed up all of my dashes, so in this chapter dashes will be shown not as double hyphens but as hyphens with spaces around them. I don't feel like going back and fixing the previous chapters. They're still readable, anywhoo.

I warn you that this chapter is extremely depressing, but I never said this story would have a happy ending. Also, it opens with an extremely crappy fight scene which is an anticlimactic Curb Stop Battle. Maybe I'll go back and redo it if I feel like it, but probably not, so you're stuck with a pathetic excuse for a fight. Hey, I had a fever while I was writing that!

Finally, if you look at my profile you'll see me advertising my fictionpress. I'm happy this story is getting such an audience, but I'd love if my fictionpress got even half this respect. In particular, my epic 100+ chapter serial project, **Broken Memory. **Go check that shit out, yo! (And no, advertising is not the only reason I updated this. Well, ok, maybe it is, but whatever, I'll do whatever I can).

* * *

With a flick of his wrist, Xemnas sent DiZ flying across the room.

DiZ hadn't been expecting it; when he looked back up at Xemnas, he was glaring so intensely that Xemnas thought he was trying to bore holes into Xemnas' skull with his eyes. Stiffly, with a rustle of red cloth, he stood.

"You are not the only one who has picked up new powers," Xemnas said, his words like ice.

"Damn you...no matter what, I _will _stop you," snarled DiZ. He raised his hands and quite suddenly darkness flooded the room, just as it had that night at the plaza. Though Xemnas was expecting it this time, it still startled him. He kept his office dark and cold, that was true, but it was a darkness and cold that comforted him. The darkness and cold of night.

This was...an all-consuming, suffocating blackness. Xemnas stopped breathing, so that he wouldn't feel like he was drowning.

"Nonsense," Xemnas growled, and summoned his familiars. The leathery flap of bat wings filled the darkness, even though he couldn't see them. More and more bats he called, one after another, until the office was thick with their snapping little jaws and their frantically flapping wings. Most vampires weren't strong enough to summon so many familiars at once, but Xemnas was no ordinary vampire. It took practically no energy at all to summon so many bats.

He ordered them to besiege DiZ. Not because he had any illusions that they would defeat his former mentor, but because he could then pinpoint DiZ's location from the sounds they made. He pricked his unnaturally sharp ears, listening and waiting.

Soon he was rewarded by the sound of DiZ shouting - and a few flashes of golden light that rained a hail of dead bats in their wake. Xemnas pushed his way towards the flashes - DiZ's magic - and the bats parted around him like the Red Sea around Moses. Soon he was standing directly in front of his former teacher, a spot of bloody red in the darkness.

DiZ glared at him. The bandages on his face were slightly tattered, revealing flashes of pitted and shriveled brownish skin. Seeing that filled Xemnas with a dose of confidence. The old man might have _some _power, but it had come at too great a cost.

"How are you faring, Master Ansem?" Xemnas said, slowly and ironically. "My, my...you look quite ill. Did my bats really ruffle you that much?"

"Enough," DiZ hissed, gathering a bolt of golden light in his hand, which illuminated him in quite a ghastly fashion. He raised his arm, prepared to hurl the bolt, but Xemnas lashed out with his own powers and knocked DiZ back several feet. DiZ crumpled against the wall, roaring in anger.

Such a weakling! And to think that Xemnas had even dared to _fear _him...

"What's the matter, Master Ansem?" Xemnas said, advancing slowly upon his former teacher, his coat swishing around him. "Didn't you say you were going to stop me? How disappointing. I thought that in two hundred years, you would gain _some _skills..."

"And I have!" DiZ growled. "I promise you, your reign of terror cannot continue any longer. I pledged to stop you, _you_, my biggest mistake..."

"Ah." Xemnas tilted his head to the side, satisfaction knifing through him. "I see, now. Master Ansem...I see it all, so clearly..."

"What do you mean?" DiZ - no, Ansem - a pathetic human, that was all he was - lurched to his feet and sent a gust of freezing wind in Xemnas' direction. Xemnas conjured a shield of darkness around him, and the wind did not so much as touch him.

"You fight - and you pursued power - for the sake of revenge. Because of your pitiful emotions," Xemnas said, his eyes gleaming as he advanced upon Ansem. Ansem kept attacking him, hurling magical assault after magical assault upon Xemnas, but Xemnas quite cheerily brushed them aside. The shield around him grew stronger and stronger the more Ansem attacked. He was breathing hard, his amber eyes huge and desperate. A few of the attacks made it through the shield, as he grew more desperate, but Xemnas found it too easy to ignore the little pinpricks of pain. They were nothing but an annoyance.

"But I..._I _have nothing to hold me back. No regrets. Regret may have fueled your quest, but it gave you no power. Drive without power results in futility. And I...all _I _have ever wanted _was _power." Xemnas chuckled and reached down, seizing the front of Ansem's robes. The old man gasped and tried to twist out of Xemnas' grip; he gathered another bolt of golden light, so bright that it hurt to look upon it.

But Xemnas was quicker. He squeezed his hand around Ansem's pathetically weak neck - a _human _neck, at the end of it all Ansem was just a human - and dug his claws into the shriveled flesh. Ansem groaned and thrashed, but Xemnas pressed down harder until Ansem's breaths came out as gurgling rasps. He was still clutching the bolt of golden light, but it was flickering, fading, retracting back into his palm...

"Pathetic old man," Xemnas said. "You dared not to seek power for its own sake - and that made you weak. Power in the pursuit of revenge is nothing. It is..._tainted. _The purest power, the _strongest _power, comes from those who do not allow their earthly connections to blind them."

He removed his hand from Ansem's throat. His claws dripped with thick, tar-like black blood. Xemnas smirked. _And you say that I have become a monster...?_

He would have said it aloud, but Ansem the Wise could no longer hear him. Xemnas threw one last look at the lifeless shell that had once been his teacher - and threw his head back and laughed. It was a deep, bone-shaking laugh that sent him to his knees, clutching the desk for support (with Ansem's death, the unnatural lich darkness had dissipated). Xemnas had not laughed like this for years, perhaps never before in his long life.

But he'd done it. He had killed his mentor. Finally clipped the last thread tying him to his past, destroyed the one man who might have been an equal. But only _might have. _Perhaps, if Ansem had not been so deeply invested in his revenge quest, in the dark memories of his past, he might have been as powerful as Xemnas. Or at the very least, a half-decent match for the leader of the Coven of Thirteen. As it was, that pathetic old man had been as easy to defeat as a rag doll.

Still chuckling weakly to himself, Xemnas pulled himself to his feet and strode towards the office door. Now that his hugest obstacle had been overcome, he didn't need to fear anything. He would stride into the battle itself and nothing could touch him. No slayer. No traitor. No silver.

A man without a past was invincible.

* * *

As they headed deeper into the warehouse halls, a strange sound rose to greet Demyx and Zexion: a horrid, inhuman, roaring and sobbing and screaming that shook Demyx's bones and made his blood run cold. He and Zexion had been running through the warehouse halls, but when Demyx heard those awful noises he fell still. It sounded like someone was being tortured - or worse.

"What's the matter?" Zexion snapped, throwing Demyx an irritated look over his shoulder. Demyx was amazed at how nonchalant Zexion could be at a time like this, especially when the screeches were only rising in volume and intensity.

"Er...do you think...I mean, is it really safe?" Demyx said. "Those noises..."

"We've got no choice," Zexion said, sounding slightly annoyed. "We either go ahead or we turn back."

"Y-yeah, but..."

"Don't be such a coward. You _do _want to see Xemnas fall, don't you?" Zexion's gaze was sharp, accusing.

"That's a low blow!" Demyx squeaked. Honestly, he didn't know why he was so terrified by those noises, but he really felt - in a deep, unknowable part of his body, locked within the marrow of his bones - that he did not want to witness their source. It would be something more terrible than everything he'd seen so far, Xaldin and Marluxia, _everything._

"Enough. I told you, I wasn't going to freeze and back down anymore," Zexion said sharply. "And I'm not going to leave you, either."

"Oh, Zexion..." For a moment Demyx couldn't speak; he just felt so overwhelmed. Not to mention it was almost impossible to think when the shrieks were growing louder and louder. He thought he could make out some words, curses, mostly. Who could possibly be _screaming _like that?

"Let's go," Zexion said. "We'll be fine. We've survived so far."

"Zexion, you don't have to prove anything, you know," Demyx said.

"What?" Zexion blinked at him, his long eyelashes fluttering.

"You're still upset about...um...what happened with Xaldin, aren't you?" Demyx said. "About not being able to protect me..."

Ominously, the screams had died down into little snuffles and whimpers. Demyx and Zexion stood facing each other in an almost silent hallway; Demyx was sure that Zexion could hear the violent thudding of his heart. A part of him was still on high alert, expecting a vampire or werewolf to round the corner and attack them, but the deeper they headed into the warehouse the quieter the fighting became. It seemed almost all of the grunts had been taken care of by this point; all that was left was to defeat the commanders.

Zexion stiffened. "That has nothing to do with anything."

"Maybe it doesn't," Demyx said. "But all the same...listen, don't let yourself do anything too reckless. I'm telling you, you've got nothing to prove to me. You've saved me so many times before..."

"Tch." Zexion spun around, his coat swirling around him. He walked on ahead, a little too quickly. "They're just noises, and they've stopped anyway. You're overreacting."

_No, I'm not, _Demyx wanted to say. _And that wasn't what I was talking about_... He recognized the look in Zexion's eyes, even though he'd never seen Zexion display it before. But he'd seen his own face in the mirror after disastrous vampire hunting missions - burning with fierce resolve. Resolve to do it right the next time, who cared what happened to him. In those days, he'd told himself that it didn't matter if he lost a limb or even his life on his next hunt, so long as it meant he managed to take out at least _one _vampire. Of course, he could never follow through on his bravado; every time his nerves ended up failing him, and for the better, too. Zexion wasn't Demyx, though. Already, he'd proven that he was much more willing to go to extreme measures.

He didn't like it, the tautness to Zexion's face, the resolve glimmering in his eyes. In spite of what he'd said to Zexion after Xaldin's defeat, it seemed that Zexion had not taken his words to heart. Demyx admitted that he was afraid of this Zexion. Not afraid of what he'd do to Demyx, but afraid of what he'd do to _himself._

He followed Zexion, his steps slow and mechanical. His nerves were jumping, anticipating the screaming to begin anew any minute now - but all sounds, even the whimpers and gasps, had died down. All he could hear was harsh, ragged breathing. Somehow, he liked that even less than the bloodcurdling screaming.

Then Demyx saw it.

It wasn't anybody being tortured, or a vampire - it was _Axel. _He'd recognize that crown of red spikes anywhere. Axel, huddled on the floor, looking smaller than he'd ever had, his clothes stained with blood, his face in his hands.

Demyx stopped mid-step, breathing sharply. He had never seen Axel like this before. So..._weak. _In that instant he felt a horrid sense of _wrongness. _This was Axel's private moment of weakness, his alone. Demyx didn't know what had reduced Axel to such a state, but it wasn't in his place to inquire.

Once again, it seemed Zexion had different ideas. He walked on ahead, his face shadowed and unreadable.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Fuck off," Axel said, his voice a ragged whisper.

"Axel - " Demyx took a nervous step forward. "What happened, what's - "

"Get up," Zexion snapped, looming above Axel. He seemed angry but Demyx didn't know why. All Demyx could feel was a sick, twisting sensation deep in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to turn and run, but not when Zexion looked like he wanted nothing more than to kill Axel.

Axel unleashed a shuddering gasp. "N-no. No. Never. I won't. I'm done, I can't do any more, I can't continue, I'm done here..."

"You fucking _idiot!" _Zexion shouted, aiming a kick at Axel. Judging by the wide-eyed, almost frightened, look on his face when his foot connected with Axel's shoulder, he had been expecting Axel to roll out of the way. He soon rearranged his expression back into neutrality-bordering-on-anger, and resumed shouting. "You idiot, you coward. Get up, get _up! _You're the one with the Cross, you're the only one who can defeat Xemnas - "

"I can't," Axel groaned. "I can't do anything. I'm done, I'm _spent, _don't you see...just leave me alone, oh Roxas, oh...Roxas..."

"Roxas?" Demyx said, alarm spiking inside him. "What happened to him? Where is he?"

Axel's only response was a broken little laugh - blood burbled at his lips. He curled up tighter, tucking his head into his chest so that his face was no longer visible. He looked small and broken and it horrified Demyx, who had known Axel only as his suave and self-assured teacher. Maybe he had a short fuse and was a tad too possessive, but one thing you couldn't say about Axel was that he was weak. Because he _wasn't. _Always, he'd been the strong one. It would make much more sense if it was Demyx curled up in a pathetic ball on the ground, crying, and Axel was the one standing over him.

Pity mingled with Demyx's fear. He moved a little closer to Axel, but he was too terrified to sink to his knees and comfort him. If anything, he felt that this new, vengefully angry Zexion, would not permit him even that.

"Coward," Zexion spat, his expression livid - feral. He had never looked more like a vampire. "Fine then. If you don't want to continue, then...Demyx, pick up the Cross."

"Huh? What?" Demyx said, alarmed, before his line of sight fell on the giant, blood-stained silver cross lying across the hall, tilted at an awkward angle as if Axel had shoved it away from himself as violently as possible. Demyx thought he saw matted bits of bluish fur stuck to its sharp tip. Just _what _had Axel been doing?

"Pick the damned thing up. If Axel doesn't want to it, then you're going to kill Xemnas," Zexion said tightly.

"Whoa! No, I - " Demyx stared at Axel and his throat tightened. If he picked up the Cross and left Axel to lie here, slowly bleeding out and beside himself with misery, what kind of person would that make him? What kind of _student? _After everything that Axel had done for him...he had to be by Axel's side for this critical juncture. If he left Axel, what would happen? Axel might even die...he was certainly bleeding too much to be healthy.

Demyx stood there, hearing nothing but his own ragged breathing, but the violent pound of his heart. His vision was beginning to blur but he blinked hastily to force the tears back. He'd clenched his hands into fists and didn't feel any pain as his nails dug into his palms.

This wasn't fair. Right now, he had a choice: Axel, or Zexion.

_Zexion, obviously. He's my lover, isn't he? Who would I be if I couldn't be brave for him now?_

But Axel. Axel, sobbing and shaking and bleeding Axel, with his face hidden and his knees tucked up under him and his arms wrapped around something, some cold and bleeding hunk - Demyx had a horrible suspicion of what that was - nothing else could reduce Axel to such a state -

How could he abandon _that?_

His world fractured around him, fractured and split into a hundred tiny pieces that he couldn't put back together again. He turned his back on the Cross and sunk on his knees in front of Axel, and placed a hand on Axel's shoulder, right where Zexion had kicked him earlier. Axel was trembling so much that Demyx's hand almost slipped off.

"I'm sorry, Zexion," he said, his words feeling strangely hollow and detached, as if he wasn't actually saying them, but hearing someone else speak. "But I can't leave him. Not when he's like this."

"No." Zexion sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. He looked angry enough to kill; his eyes were practically black. Demyx couldn't bear to look at him. "_No. _I will not allow your sentimentality to prevent us from defeating Xemnas! _Pick that Cross up, you - "_

"I can't leave him," Demyx said again. "Please, understand, please - "

"You're an idiot," Zexion said caustically. "An _idiot. _Don't you understand what's important?"

"If I leave Axel he'll die," Demyx said.

"Then let him die! It's his own damned fault!" Zexion sounded hysterical, almost in tears. He'd extended his blood-streaked claws, unconsciously, as if he intended to attack Demyx. "This is your opportunity, you mustn't miss it - "

"I can't," Demyx said. The more he argued, the stronger his conviction grew, washing over him like a gulp of warm soup. "I've left behind too many people already. I'm not going to leave Axel."

Zexion's face suddenly turned white. He curled his hands into fists but then let them fall limply by his sides. He stood unnaturally still, staring at Demyx, his face unreadable as a shuttered window. A little tendril of disquiet rose in Demyx's stomach; he felt he ought to say something to defuse a potentially dangerous situation, but no words were rising in his throat.

But instead of kicking Axel again or hitting Demyx or committing any of the violent acts that Demyx had been expecting, Zexion walked right on past them - until he was standing directly in front of the Cross of the Kingdom. He stared down at it, shivering, his face twisted in revulsion. Then he sank into a crouch and slowly, tentatively, opened his hand and rested it atop the Cross.

Insantly Zexion yanked his hand away from the Cross as if he'd been burnt, hissing. His face was still twisted, but now from pain. Though he quickly tucked his hand inside his coat, Demyx caught a glimpse of it anyone - Zexion's pale skin was now a hideous shade of red.

"Zexion!" he cried, concern knifing through him. "What're you trying to do, are you _insane?"  
_

Zexion didn't look back at him. He gritted his teeth and reached for the Cross, though this time he'd pulled his coat sleeves over his hands to provide some layer of shielding between his skin and the silver. Nausea burbled in Demyx's stomach as he watched Zexion, his eyes squeezed shut and hising in pain, tightened his grip around the hilt of the Cross.

"Zexion, stop this - "

"You wanted to stay with Axel, didn't you?" Zexion's voice was low and harsh from pain. He had stood by now, but was tottering slightly under the weight of the Cross. He still had his back turned to Demyx. "Then stay with him."

"No! This is insane, not even _you _would go this far to, I don't even know, _blackmail _me - "

"It's not blackmail." Zexion exhaled sharply. "It's simply doing what must be done. Neither of you is in any condition to wield the Cross."

"Zexion..." Demyx's vision became blurred with tears, which he supposed was a good thing since it meant he didn't have to see Zexion's pain with such heartbreaking clarity. But it wasn't a good thing. Zexion was in pain because of _him_ - his only rightful penance was to observe that pain and engrave it into the contours of his heart until it haunted his nightmares for the rest of his life.

The worst thing was that he _could _end Zexion's pain. Easily. All he had to do was get up and take the Cross from Zexion and go slay Xemnas himself...but then he laid eyes on Axel, shuddering, bleeding, harshly sobbing Axel, and something curled up and died inside him and he knew he couldn't.

Demyx had never felt like more of a traitor.

He tried to plead with Zexion, a last-ditch effort. "Please, just wait, _wait _here for someone else to come here, another slayer or whatever - "

Zexion gazed coldly at him. "By then it might be too late. I doubt anyone is anywhere near, or else they'd have already been attracted by - well - the noise."

"Don't do this," Demyx didn't so much say as sob. "Please, Zexion. Please, don't."

"I've got no other choice," Zexion said. "Xemnas must fall."

"Oh, Zexion - "

Zexion had already begun walking away, gingerly holding the Cross in front of him. Demyx was crying freely now, his tears splashing atop Axel's back. He reached out towards Zexion, but with Axel's body between the two of them, he couldn't grab Zexion, couldn't _stop _Zexion, no matter how much he wanted to. He screamed, swore, begged, but Zexion grew smaller and smaller until Demyx could no longer see him.

"Demyx," Axel murmured.

Demyx buried his face into the crook of Axel's shoulder, and shook with bitter sobs.

* * *

Zexion, to his shame, ended up dropping the Cross a few times. He hadn't intended on it, but it fucking _hurt _to carry the thing. Even though his hands were swallowed in his sleeves, the noxious silver burned through the material as if it wasn't even there - he could feel the skin bubbling and blistering. Worst of all was the aura palpitating from the Cross. Though he was holding the weapon at arms' length, its aura, throbbing and pulsing with spells and blessings and silver, so much damned _silver, _still smothered him. He could barely breathe through it, and his head was throbbing and ants were crawling up his throat.

What the hell was he thinking? _Him, _an incubus, wielding the Cross of the Kingdom against the Superior? The thought would have made him laugh if his head wasn't spinning so badly.

But he had no choice. Demyx had chosen to stay behind with Axel.

Zexion would never admit how that thought burned him more than the silver.

Finally, he could go on no further. He was certain there was no more skin on his hands - he _had _to let go of the Cross. He let it fall, with a dull clatter, to the concrete floor, and sagged to his knees before it, breathing hard. Even that barely brought him any relief - his hands were still burning and the Cross's aura continued to assault him, driving hammers into his skull. Zexion squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the urge to retch.

What a weakling he was. He'd set out to accomplish one task, but he couldn't even do that.

Demyx's words echoed in his ears: _You don't have to prove anything...You're still upset about...um...what happened with Xaldin, aren't you? About not being able to protect me..._

No, that wasn't why he was doing this at all. It was because Axel was unable to and Demyx, unwilling. Because he'd chosen to stay with _Axel_...

Had he done all this out of jealousy? Burned the skin off his hands and suffered the longest and most painful walk in his life, only to collapse in a useless heap on the ground. He would never make it to Xemnas. He would never be able to protect Demyx.

It rankled. Demyx hadn't chosen him. He had chosen Axel.

Perhaps that was simply...logical. Axel was weak and injured far beyond the two of them - he was the one in greater need of help. _He could have asked me to stay with Axel, and he could have wielded the Cross. Why didn't he? Because he was afraid...?_

_Or did he think that I would kill Axel?_

That last thought made him shudder and what little strength had been left in his muscles vanished. If that was true, it meant that Demyx didn't trust him. It made sense that Demyx wouldn't, though - he was an incubus who had hurt Demyx on occasion and killed Axel once already. That Demyx was willing to admit that he loved Zexion was already more than Zexion deserved, and he knew it. All the same, thinking about it that way stung. Wasn't part of loving someone _trusting _them?

He sagged against the wall for what felt like an eternity, occasionally hearing the distant sounds of battle - thuds and gunshots and snarls - and smelling the distinctive reek of vampiric blood above all. That made him feel even more nauseous than he already did. The concrete beneath the crown of his head was comfortingly cool. If only he could sleep and forget it all...

No. He had a mission. Defeat Xemnas - for Demyx.

The Cross was still lying limply on the ground in front of him. Zexion cursed inside as he reached towards it. What was he doing, letting such a valuable object lie around like trash for anyone to pick up. Certainly this stretch of the hall seemed deserted, but -

Zexion stiffened as a horribly familiar scent washed over him.

Darkness and blood, amplified tenfold into something heavy and choking; he had to stop breathing or else he would drown on it. Instantly, without thinking, Zexion pushed the Cross behind him and crouched in front of it, making sure that he was hiding it with his body. His hand stung from the contact with the silver but he bit his tongue and resolutely blocked out the pain.

Xemnas appeared at the far end of the hall, striding slowly and confidently, his greatcoat billowing around him. His face was twisted in a smirk that was almost feral with satisfaction. His aura, already powerful, drowned out every other presence in the hall - even that of the Cross - until it seemed that the only people to exist, and had ever existed, were Zexion and Xemnas. It took all of Zexion's effort to keep himself from gagging; Xemnas' aura was horrible enough as it was, but now it was tinged with a sense of contentedness, no, _joy, _that made it burn at the edges like a chemical fire. It settled on his tongue, bitter and dangerous.

Zexion had never seen Xemnas so happy before. He had never feared Xemnas more.

"Greetings, Ienzo," Xemnas said with a content sigh, gazing down at Zexion. "How are your little slayer friends doing?"

For a panicked moment Zexion thought that Xemnas had sensed the Cross' presence - but he realized that Xemnas' aura right now was so powerful and all-encompassing that nothing could penetrate him. It engulfed him, a bubble of delusions. He forced himself to look at Xemnas' face, and saw with a cold shiver that animalistic triumph was carved into every line of the elder vampire's face. The triumph of a predator that had taken down a particularly difficult prey.

But with that shiver came a little electric jolt - _triumph? _What reason did he have to feel triumphant? Not when he was cornered and sick and very possibly dying, what with all that prolonged contact with the Cross of the Kingdom...

Yet Xemnas' happiness was making him reckless. Zexion could feel it now. Usually Xemnas was a paragon of control - he had powers beyond any vampire, but he kept them tightly bound within himself, allowing them only to shimmer at the edge of his presence like the light of the sun from behind an eclipse. That was what gave him his fearful aura: the knowledge that what he was showing you was only a fraction of what he could _do _to you. His wild, unfettered joy right now had ruined his control, spilling forth all of his dread power until it flooded the hall and Zexion could see Xemnas exactly as he was. A power-hungry monster.

How would that help him, though? It didn't matter if Xemnas was keeping his powers locked up or not, since they were the same either way and could hurt Zexion just as badly. But...

Zexion remembered that time in the study of Axel's villa, during which he'd laid bare all of the slayer's sins. He had suffered Axel's wrath in the end, but he'd won because he'd gotten Axel to lose his control.

_This is insane. Xemnas is not Axel. He is much, _much _worse..._

But wasn't the principle the same?

This would take all of his skill as a manipulator, but he could do it. He _would _do it.

For Demyx.

Sweating, Zexion forced himself to crawl slightly forward, enough so that he was still hiding the Cross behind him. "S...Superior," he whispered.

"Yes?" Xemnas gazed dispassionately down at him, though the feral triumph on his face did not lessen. "What is it, Ienzo? My, you're certainly worse for the wear, aren't you..."

"I've learned my lesson," Zexion stammered. "Please, forgive me, Superior - I, I was misguided, I don't know what I was thinking...that human is nothing, I promise you, I _promise _you..."

"What are you saying, Ienzo?" Xemnas said, bending down so that he and Zexion were eye-to-eye. Zexion almost fainted from the sheer power of Xemnas' gaze - his eyes burned like twin coronas.

"Superior, I've learned the error of my eyes - I understand now - there is no other but you, no one but you - "

"Is that so?" Xemnas said, slowly, deliberately. Too deliberately. Panic twisted Zexion's stomach but he fought it down.

"Yes, Superior, I've learned, I know - "

"That's very nice, Ienzo," Xemnas said, still taking that slow tone - the tone that all superior vampires took with incubi, Zexion realized with a disgusted shudder. "If I could trust you, that is. You have, after all, proven yourself to be a very opportunistic little snake indeed. Who knows if you're saying what you are simply because you're afraid of the punishment that awaits you if your side loses? Indeed...it will be a dreadful punishment indeed...Xaldin dead...Saix critically wounded..."

Zexion swallowed something that tasted like bile. "I'm sincere, Superior, I swear I'm sincere - "

"I cannot trust your word, Ienzo," Xemnas said. "There is only one way to prove your loyalty to me, and you know it."

He extended his hands towards Zexion. It took all of Zexion's effort to keep himself from screaming. _No, not this - not this again - _Xemnas would find out, everything, about him loving Demyx and working with the slayers and the Cross and then it'd be over, truly over -

_No. I have to protect him._

He bit his bottom lip. This was the most insane, most audacious act he'd ever tempted in his entire life. The whole point of this power of Xemnas' was that it penetrated through everything, even the most secure illusion, leaving bare nothing but the truth.

If Zexion was truly a master of illusions, then he would have to build one that would withstand even that.

He sucked in a deep breath as Xemnas' hands closed around his forehead, icy cold and stinking of blood - not vampiric blood, but something musty and sickening that made his stomach turn. Yet strangely familiar...but he couldn't think about that.

He forced himself to clear his mind. Gathered his powers. And thought, and thought, and thought.

When Xemnas dove in it felt like he'd plunged into icy water. He gasped, reflexively, tried to fight back, but forced himself to calm down -

The first image that flashed across his mind was, thankfully, not one of Demyx but of Axel, pinning him down on that very first night and laughing as he raped Zexion - That was good, very good, Zexion could build on that -

He pulled forth an image of him confronting Axel in the library, modifying the truth so that he shoved Axel around a little bit, before Axel fought back, forcing him to his knees in submission and kicking him black and blue all the while shouting about how he always knew Zexion was a traitor...

Then an image of Demyx (_this hurt, it physically hurt_), walking in on the injured Zexion, and not comforting him as he would have, had that scene actually happened in life, but laughing cruelly and saying that he expected that, of course a vampire would be a traitor...

It hurt so damn much, but not as much as the silver burns from the Cross. Zexion forced a tendril of attention upon them, knowing that the physical pain kept him grounded.

More false memories he called up. Him arguing with Demyx over his sleeping with Axel (though he changed around some words so it came across as Axel having raped him again and Demyx not caring about the fine distinction between that and consenual sex), and then (so painful - but not as painful as those burns, as the Cross' aura) the last time he'd slept with Demyx, which he reinvented into Demyx raping him to punish him for sleeping with Axel -

Then a completely invented image of him curled up in his bedroom in DiZ's manor, cursing these damned slayers, that damned human slayer especially, wondering why he'd ever gotten involved with them in the first place...

And the ball, which he reconstructed as him being led around like a pet by Demyx, shown off to other slayers like a conquest, just as he'd been under Axel's control. He completely left out the part in which Demyx had sung and they'd danced and both had confessed.

The raid on the Coven of Thirteen, Zexion hanging back, reluctant. Demyx yelling at him to follow him, calling him bitch and whore and pet (_the silver, the Cross, think about that, not this, not this, never this_), and then the two of them confronting Xaldin, bound in Marluxia's vines...him begging Demyx not to, Demyx shoving him aside and calling him traitor...

"Excellent, _excellent," _Xemnas was crooning - Zexion heard his voice with that physical part of his body that was focusing on the burns, and on the Cross toward which he was steadily snaking his hand...

One final false memory. He put all of his will into it, imbued it with all of his illusion-making powers. Him running away from an injured Demyx, running and running and thinking of nothing but rejoining the Superior and begging his forgiveness...

"Excellent!" Xemnas bellowed aloud, just as Zexion's fingers closed around the Cross.

It was lucky that Xemnas was still in his mind, because that helped take some of the edge off the agony as the blessed silver contacted his already raw and scabbed skin. Nonetheless, he gave a little hiss of pain as he tightened his grip and slowly lifted the Cross... Xemnas was loosening his grip on Zexion's forehead, his fingers slowly slipping away...his aura was even more satisfied than ever before, pulsing like a demented heart...

Screaming Demyx's name, Zexion swung the Cross mightily and impaled Xemnas in the heart.

Xemnas' hands broke away from Zexion's forehead and he reeled back, his eyes huge from astonishment. Zexion himself couldn't believe what he was staring at - the Cross of the Kingdom protruding from Xemnas' chest as icy dark blood steadily dripped down the front of Xemnas' coat. He felt sick; his head spun. He couldn't believe this was happening, he had to be dreaming, _had _to -

"I..._Ienzo_..." Xemnas croaked through the blood bubbling on his lips. For many years afterwards, Zexion would remember the sheer hatred blazing in Xemnas' eyes, hardening them like live coals. Xemnas' gaze cut through him, destroying illusion after illusion until nothing was left of him, nothing but his naked and vulnerable core -

Nothing but his love for Demyx.

"I'm sorry, Superior," Zexion whispered, "but I _do _love him. More than I ever loved you and this entire damned coven."

"D-damn _you _- traitor, _TRAITOR!" _Xemnas roared, swiping madly at the air; Zexion ducked out of the way of his blows. Already, he could feel Xemnas' powerful presence flicker and fade; the noxious presence of the Cross flooded him again, making him gag.

Zexion steadily staggered backwards as Xemnas lurched and roared in the throes of death. And then, with a titanic crash and the clang of silver, Xemnas fell face forward and hit the concrete floor. He didn't move. He never would again.

The last of his presence rushed upon Zexion like a fiery wind, and then even that was gone. Zexion was left shaky but still standing, clinging to the wall for support, gazing upon the corpse of the one vampire he had feared beyond all others.

Now dead by his hand.

He managed a shaking laugh, reeling in the impossibility of it all. A mere incubus such as himself, trick the Superior and then slay him? Something like that couldn't possibly happen...it was too insane, too...

Something roared behind him and slammed into him with the force of a hundredweight, bearing him face-forward onto the ground. He yelled, struggling, but it was no use - the _creature _was too strong -

Just before it had tackled him, he had glimpsed a flash of blood-stained blue fur.

* * *

"Hey. What are you _doing?"_

Axel's voice, rough-edged but astoundingly steady, snapped Demyx out of his reverie. Or whatever state of half-consciousness he'd been in as he clung to Axel and wet his face and Axel's shirt with his tears. He hadn't thought of anything but the solid warmth of the vampire slayer under him, clinging to that as his last anchor to the physical world. If he let go...he'd slip away. Into doubts and fears and betrayals.

Axel made it easy by not speaking, by not moving except to shake. But now he spoke, and as Demyx lifted his face, he saw Axel staring back at him, his eyes red at the edges and his face wet but his gaze furious.

Axel had never glared at him like that before...

"S-sorry, Axel, I - I'm here, it's okay - " Demyx babbled, unsure of what else he could say. The air between them felt heavy, ominous.

"Get away," Axel hissed, pushing Demyx; Demyx, astonished, couldn't move. "Get _away _from me!"

"Axel, I'm sorry, I - "

"What are you doing _here? _Why aren't you with _him?"  
_

"I - I - you were in pain, so I had to - " Demyx stammered. Had Axel really believed, all along, that he mattered less to Demyx than Zexion? No, of course that wasn't true. His feelings might lie with Zexion, but he loved Axel too, just in a different way. Couldn't Axel see that?

"He's the one you love, isn't he? So why aren't you by his side? _Helping _him?" Axel shouted, his voice rising and rising in volume until it cracked. He was shaking and clinging to Roxas' mangled corpse as if it was his lifeline, and his every word crackled with spitting fury. "What kind of cowardly idiot are you? What kind of _lover _are you? When you make a pledge to someone like that, you don't _fucking leave them behind! _Got that memorized? _Got it fucking memorized?"_

"Axel, I - I really, I couldn't leave you - " Demyx said, overwhelmed.

Axel was crying again, really crying, shaking from rage and terror and misery. In that instant Demyx saw that Axel wasn't really angry with him - he was trying to help. As he'd always had. At the end of it all he was Demyx's teacher to the core.

And Demyx...Demyx wouldn't have it any other way.

"When you love someone," Axel said quietly, "you don't have any second chances. Go on. He needs you."

"I know," Demyx said, pulling himself away from Axel. He couldn't remove his eyes from Axel's face, from the green eyes blazing with tears and intention and so, so many regrets. "You'll be fine?"

"Once you leave, yeah," Axel grumbled.

Demyx took that as his signal. Without looking back, he turned around and ran.

* * *

_No, no no - this can't be happening, this can't -_

The Cross of the Kingdom had sapped all of Zexion's strength. He lay there, limp as a rag doll, as Saix attacked him, scratching him over and over again and leaving behind gashes that blazed with pain - but he couldn't move, couldn't fight back.

What an idiot he'd been, not thinking about Saix. All along he'd thought Saix wouldn't be a threat, since Xemnas _had _said that he was "critically wound" - but Zexion had quite forgotten what Saix was to Xemnas, and Xemnas to Saix. If anyone were to avenge the Superior's death, it would be his second-in-command.

"Get off - get off - " Zexion hissed, but there was no use giving the command when he knew he didn't have the strength to pack it up. Saix's horrid musky stench overwhelmed his senses, but it couldn't block out the sharp bite of the Cross.

Saix kept up his animalistic growling - he was now gnawing at the back of Zexion's neck - it hurt like hell, he wanted it all to stop -

Three gunshots rang in the air, leaving behind an odor of gunpowder and silver. Squealing, Saix leapt off Zexion and spun around -

To face Demyx, striding down the hall, his face pale but his mouth set in a firm line of resolve.

"Demyx," Zexion whispered, his head spinning. Gratitude rushed through him. So in the end, Demyx _had _chosen him after all...

"I'm here," Demyx said. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier, but I..."

He gave an awkward smile, but Zexion could read what it said as clearly as he could any book: _Forgive me, okay, Zexy?_

"It's all right," Zexion said. _I forgive you._

"Did you really...was that _you _who did it?" Demyx said, throwing a glance at Xemnas' corpse. With his hair spread out around his head and his arms splayed, the Superior looked truly pathetic in death. Saix, upon seeing the corpse, unleashed a howl that trembled in Zexion's bones. A lament.

"Cool," Demyx said, and Zexion could have died from happiness right then. He didn't need anyone's approval but Demyx - who cared what the others would say to him about his feat -

Saix, roaring, dove towards Demyx, ignoring the multiple wound and burns covering his body - it was almost impossible to see the color of his fur beneath the matted blood and the scorched, hairless areas. Demyx yelled and shot a few more times. Blood burst in the air, hot and musky, but Saix in his enraged state ignored the injuries. Demyx yelled, staggering backwards -

And Saix leapt forward and clamped his jaws around Demyx's chest.

Demyx screamed. It was the most horrific sound Zexion had heard in all of his long life, and he had lived through both world wars. A scream of pure, bloodcurdling agony, that sounded at once like a shriek and a squeal and a gasp - and a plea for help, always a plea for help.

"Demyx!" Zexion shouted, rushed forward. "Get the fuck off of him, you stinking mutt - "

Saix was crunching down on Demyx's flesh with vicious satisfaction - the coppery scent of Demyx's blood flooded the hallway. Tears blurred Zexion's vision. He realized that he should free the Cross from Xemnas' body but he couldn't move; he seized Saix's back leg and tugged, but Saix held on tighter, more stubbornly. Demyx's screams were beginning to sound like gasps...

And then there was a blast and the sickening squelch of flesh and the aftertang of a silver bullet. Demyx had managed to lift his gun arm and fired point blank at Saix's head. In a mist of red and white, Saix flew backwards and away from Demyx, collapsing limply on the concrete beside Xemnas. Blood began streaking across the flat gray surface, staining it red; some mingled with Xemnas' black blood.

But Zexion had no attention to spare on Saix. He ran towards Demyx, who had sagged to the ground after he'd blasted Saix off of him. Demyx's face was pale and his mouth was dribbling blood and his eyes were wild and terrified - Zexion didn't want to look at his injury but he forced himself to.

Red and gaping flesh. Gushing blood. Ragged edges. His ribs were visible, cracked, gnawed on. Bits of cloth from his coat and shirt were stuck to the flesh, all that horrible muscle and sinew on display like the sliced-open carcass of livestock...

Zexion had very little medical experience but even he could tell that the wound was fatal.

"Demyx, oh Demyx, please - " he whispered, though he had no idea what he was pleading for. He grabbed Demyx by the shoulder and supported him, keeping him in a seated position. Demyx's eyes, growing vaguer and more unfocused by the second, rested on his face.

"'Lo, Zex," he mumbled.

"Demyx, you'll be all right, don't die, don't die, _don't die!" _Zexion's voice rose to a squeak. He hated himself for his weakness. Once he'd been a cold and manipulative incubus, freely using and abusing people - and now he was about to collapse, his _everything _was about to collapse, because of a dying human.

He couldn't imagine a world without Demyx...a life without Demyx always by his side...

Wait. There _was _a way around this.

"Zex," said Demyx, his words increasingly slurred as he lost more and more blood. "Gonna die, aren't I?"

"No, you're not. You're _not," _Zexion said with fierce conviction, looking into Demyx's eyes though it pained him to see the cheerful and indefatigable slayer like this, so weak, his gaze so bleary. "I can save you. I can still save you. The Gift of the Immortal, remember?"

"Oh, Zex, you..." Demyx looked at him, his gaze sharper than it had been. "You wouldn't...really...?"

"You don't have a choice. You're dying - do you want to live?" Zexion whispered. "The Coven of Thirteen has been defeated. Don't you want to...to be able to celebrate it? With _me?"_

"Course I do," Demyx mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut - but thankfully they reopened only seconds later. "Do it."

"You'd really agree to it?" Zexion said. Time seemed to have stopped for the two of them.

Demyx lowered his head into a slow nod. "Got no other choice. Do it. I...love you, Zexion."

"I love you too, I love you so much I - " Zexion broke off before he could get too hysterical, and squeezed Demyx's shoulders and leaned in, right above the vein in his neck that was pulsing slower and slower by the second...

He was uncannily reminded of the first time he'd met Demyx, in the darkness of Axel's courtyard. How long ago that had been...how much had happened between then and now

He bit.

Demyx's blood was as delicious as he'd always thought it would be - warm and coppery, like all human blood, and tinged with its own unique flavor, like sea salt, yet slightly sweet as well. For a brief, horrifying second, he wanted nothing more than to drink and drink until he drained Demyx completely - but he kept himself in check.

Zexion had never given the Gift before, but he knew the principle behind it. While sucking on the human's blood, he had to think, with all of his will and desire, of turning the recipient into a pureblood vampire such as himself. It was a little similar to the principle of turning a human into a made vampire, but what made it different was the desire behind the drinking. It took no effort to create a made vampire, but the Gift was famously difficult to give.

In fact, he'd heard it said that only the most powerful senior vampires could give it and be assured that the recipient would become pureblood. But it all depended on force of will, didn't it? Senior vampires always tended to have stronger wills than junior vampires, but...

No vampire had ever loved a human as powerfully as Zexion did. He _knew _the force of his love - his desire to see Demyx live - would accomplish the task. It had to, or else -

He couldn't think about the alternative. No doubts.

As he slowly lapped up Demyx's blood, imbibing it with his own powers, he focused on nothing but his memories of the human slayer. The first time they'd met, in which Demyx had intrigued him for his lack of guile. Then the time in the dungeon, during which he'd manipulated an unsuspecting Demyx. Being mastered by Demyx. Demyx's apology. Living with Demyx. Discussing pop vampire literature. The butterfly.

_"I love you," _Demyx had said for the first time.

Demyx's disappearance. Killing Axel to free himself, so he could save Demyx. Finally reuniting with Demyx. Their argument. Him crying, Demyx comforting him. Sleeping together, the first time they'd done it lovingly. Chasing Roxas with Demyx. Confronting the Superior. Demyx's dreams getting blasted apart. Then he, Zexion, comforting Demyx when no one else would.

DiZ's manor. _"You're here and I'm here and that's all that matters." _Telling Demyx of his past, arguing over the Gift of the Immortal. Sleeping with Axel, and then Demyx punishing him for that. _Ange de l'amour, _Demyx had called him. Going to the ball together. Demyx singing.

"_Let me love you, baby, let me love you."_

Their confession, in which they had named their flaws and feelings in one go. Then storming the warehouse together. Fighting Xaldin. Demyx comforting him after he'd frozen up. Chancing upon Axel. Demyx choosing to stay by Axel's side. Him picking up the Cross. Tricking the Superior for Demyx's sake. And then...then Saix attacking Demyx, Demyx killing Saix, Demyx, Demyx Demyx -

He saw it, then. Demyx as a pureblood vampire, standing tall and elegant by Zexion's side, pale as death. Zexion focused lovingly, almost obsessively, on the image, honing the little details until he was seeing it as if it was real. Demyx would make a beautiful pureblood - not an incubus like Zexion, because he had no guile in his soul - maybe a guard. His hair would grow paler to match the pallor of his skin. Platinum blonde, delicate strands falling into his eyes. His cheeks would hollow out, his chin sharpen, his features become more elegant than puppy-dog endearing (as they were now), and he would look resplendent in vampiric black. His fingers, already long, would become even longer and more skeletal, tipped by claws...Zexion imagined how the vampire Demyx's grip would feel around his, reassuringly tight, comfortingly cold.

In the future, after Demyx became a vampire, they would have an eternity together, to know each others' touches until they became emblazoned into the fabric of their being.

Demyx's blood was starting to taste sour in his mouth - he realized that he was, essentially, done. He drew away, feeling surprisingly alert, even though it was said - and he'd witnessed - that the Gift of the Immortal left the giver terribly weak for several days.

He stared at Demyx, the blood rushing in his ears.

And stared. Unable to believe what he was seeing. Unwilling...to accept...

This couldn't possibly be.

His hands fell from Demyx's shoulders, limply back to his sides. Tears stung the corners of his eyes and he almost welcomed them - if they blurred his vision enough he wouldn't have to lay eyes on the horror before him. But his eyes remained stubbornly dry and his vision unclouded, and he had no choice but to face what he had done. _He. _Zexion.

Demyx's injury had healed - the process of making a human into a vampire always fixed whatever injuries or scars that might have been sporting. But the Demyx staring at him right now was not the handsome pureblood Zexion had envisioned.

He couldn't take in everything at once - it was all too overwhelming. But he saw, saw enough. The pasty skin. The rough, too-large hands twitching like spiders. Long fangs protruding from his mouth. And the eyes. Wide and small-pupiled and _feral, _without a hint of the cheerful intelligence that had been characteristic of the living, human Demyx.

Demyx had become a made vampire. A mindless monster.

Zexion had failed.

* * *

Believe me, that ending was the most difficult thing I've ever written. Even while writing it I wanted to go back and redo it all and give Zexion and Demyx their happy ending - but I firmly believe that is against the spirit of this story. The whole point of this story is a repudation of the Twilight-like ideal: it's simply impossible for a vampire and human to have a Happily Ever After. The thing is, Demyx never had a personality conducive to being a vampire, which is necessary for the Gift to work. He might have fallen in love with one, but he loved his life as a human too much to give it up, even though he agreed to being given the Gift. Maybe he turned around on the outside, but in his subconscious, his answer remained the same that it did during their argument in "Immortal."

And no, as Zexion found out, loving someone is not enough for the Gift to work. A repudation of the Power of Love as well. Some forces are simply stronger than love.

Next chapter will be called "Beautiful," and no, it will not be happy either.

Review. And I'll understand if you cry because hell, my throat tightened when I was writing the final scene. It's the first time I've ever had such a strong emotional reaction to something I've written, which I think is a good thing (even if it had to be cruddy fanfiction).

I don't think this is the right time or place to plug **Broken Memory**, but I'll do it anyway.


	30. Beautiful

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Part 3: The Renegades

_30. Beautiful_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene, Cleon

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness, scads of violence

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: Another quick update! I'm encouraged that this story is basically writing itself.

This is the final chapter...a destination that's taken almost two years to reach. Note that this isn't the "end" end, though, because there is an epilogue. So I'll save the emotional farewells 'til then, mmkay?

Aqua makes a brief appearance in this chapter, solely because of Author Appeal. She is easily my favorite Kingdom Hearts character (Zexion is the one I most prefer to wank to, but objectively, I like Aqua better). Finally a kickass female heroine, who may well be the bravest, most heroic character in all of the games. ^^ Plus she has blue hair and detached sleeves. What's there not to love? XD She doesn't do much in this chapter, but her character arc is inspired slightly by the plot of _Birth by Sleep, _so if you don't wish to be spoiled, don't read. Granted it's a very, _very _slight inspiration. I view vampie slayer Aqua as melded with the blood of a naiad.

This is an immensely character-driven, psychological chapter, and I'm very proud of it. Though it may not be what everyone's expecting.

Obligatory plug for **Broken Memory**. Check that shit out!

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no no _no_..."

Zexion staggered backwards, barely able to breathe. Tears pricked, stinging, at the corners of his eyes and he impatiently wiped them aside with the back of his hand. He couldn't look away. Not from his sin.

From Demyx.

Demyx, or the monster that had once been Demyx, crouched beneath him, staring at him with those feral eyes that weren't Demyx's at all, how cruel that they had to be the same color, that beautiful shining blue, but _they weren't Demyx's_. Demyx would have been smiling, there was always a smile on his face, and if not a smile a joke, but this wasn't a joke, this was _real, _this was a Demyx looking at him with no intelligence at all, his mouth halfway open, revealing too well his needle-like fangs, and a low, thrumming growl rising from his throat...

Zexion had laid eyes on plenty of made vampires in his time. Hell, he'd _made _plenty. Hadn't one of the first things he'd said to Demyx been a threat to make him...? Oh, he could remember everything about that encounter, even though it hurt it hurt it _hurt, _it squeezed his chest so tightly he thought his heart would burst - it was better if it burst, he wouldn't have to face what he'd done -

If only he could go back in time and redo this, if only he could undo the damned transformation! But his own voice, cruel and cold and mocking, rose out of the gloom of memory:

"_Transformations cannot be undone."_

He collapsed in a heap to the cold concrete, his sides heaving, but no vomit was leaving his stomach. He just wanted it all to end, he didn't want to have to wake up every night with the knowledge that his newest servant had once been the man he loved, he still loved, so painfully...if only he didn't have to feel anymore, it was better not to feel...

"Kill me," he whispered, he spat, his words hate-filled. He wanted the monster to listen. That monster who he hated more than anyone else in the world - almost as much as he hated himself. He couldn't bring himself to hate the man that monster had once been, but he did hate the monster. What the monster represented.

"What's the matter with you? You obey my orders, right? I'm your master! Kill me!" Zexion shouted, choking on every word as it came up. He feared that he was going crazy, but then welcomed that prospect. Anything, _anything _to keep himself from facing Demyx...

Demyx stared back at him, uncomprehending. There were networks of veins under his skin, perfectly visible, blue through his pasty skin...the hallmark of any made vampire. Seeing them made tears sting Zexion's eyes again.

"_Kill me, do you hear me!"_

A querying growl. Zexion could have broken down sobbing and he wondered why he didn't. Was he really that pathetic? Just a sociopathic vampire at the core.

_"I'm a brainless and incompetent vampire slayer and I love a self-righteous and sociopathic incubus!" _Demyx had declared to the skies, that night, that beautiful night...

_You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you, _he'd sang. What an idiot, a liar. "Good"...Zexion wasn't "good" by any stretch of the imagination. Anyone who could do something like _this _to his lover wasn't possibly good.

The worst thing was that this Demyx really couldn't take his eyes off Zexion. He just kept his horrible vacant stare on his master, awaiting further orders...but hadn't Zexion given him orders?

"I told you to kill me!" Zexion yelled, his rage blazing anew. "Kill me, kill me, _kill _me, dammit! I don't want to - don't want to live - not like this - "

The monster gazed uncomprehending back at him, and then slowly backed down, looking...nervous? Hell if he could tell. Monsters didn't have emotions. _Monsters. _What he'd turned Demyx into...what an idiot, believing that the force of his love alone could have been enough. Enough, enough, it was never enough...

Worse, the monster _couldn't _kill him, he realized. Made vampires lived for the sole purpose of protecting their master, ensuring that he stayed alive - whatever pitiful half-life a vampire could have - to the point where even that urge trumped their master's orders. Just like the Three Laws of Robotics, a tiny, inane part of Zexion's mind said, and then he choked up again and realized that Demyx had really become a mindless automaton.

Demyx would never smile at him again.

Demyx would never sing for him again.

Demyx would never hold him during the nights again.

Demyx would never say, "I love you," to him again.

Demyx was gone.

Gone.

Zexion truly lost it then. With that revelation - crushing him like a ten-ton boulder - he flung himself to the ground and clutched his head and _screamed. _Screamed to the ceiling, screamed to that awful old man sitting above the clouds who dared, who _dared _to have done this to him - who dared who dared WHO DARED - it was worse than dying with the knowledge that nobody had ever loved him, much worse, because he _had _been loved, however briefly, _he had truly been loved. _And now he would never be loved again, not by that person again. He would have an eternity and that person would not be there. Would be by his side but not really, because this monster had none of Demyx's mind and spark and charm, nothing of Demyx's, he was just a husk, an empty husk, and it was all _Zexion's fault - _

_All my fault all of this is my fault Demyx oh Demyx can you ever forgive me can anyone ever forgive me Axel oh God all I ever did was hurt him he'll kill me when he sees me he'll kill me - _

_That's all right. As long as he kills Demyx next, and then I can be for Demyx forever. If we don't go in opposite directions, of course._

He screamed until he could scream no more, until he was coughing up sickening dark blood. He lay there in the concrete and groaned and whispered because that was all he could manage, whispered "I'm sorry," over and over again and he didn't know who he was apologizing to; Demyx, maybe, or Axel, or maybe the entire world for having existed in the first place...

_He should have just let me die. My master. If I'd died I would never have hurt so many people._

All he ever did. Hurt people.

The made monster shuffled up to his side, looking concerned. Zexion hated it for that. How dare it. It had no right. The only one who had a right was dead, because of Zexion.

"Go away," he whispered. At least it obeyed that order - it, growling in confusion, shuffled to the far end of the hall, and never once removed those horrid feral eyes from Zexion.

He heard voices. Footsteps. Axel's voice, above all, " - went this way, I'm sure - "

No, not Axel. He didn't want Axel to come. For Axel to see Demyx in this state...he couldn't bear that. All he had ever done was hurt Axel, first Roxas and now Demyx, he couldn't...he couldn't handle it not now. He toyed with the notion of ordering the Demyx monster to kill Axel but he couldn't bring himself to do it. What would that do. Axel would just spring up again, fully alive. Axel was just like him. Unable to die, forced to live with all his sins on his head for the rest of his days. No wonder Axel was the way he was.

"Whoa - hey, is that - " Xigbar's voice. Zexion couldn't bring himself to care.

The Demyx monster growled and sank into a crouch, claws extended - it wanted to fight. "Don't," Zexion mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. "Don't do anything, don't move, don't..."

A group of slayers - most of whom he didn't recognize - had gathered around Saix and Xemnas' bodies. It seemed none of them had noticed Zexion and Demyx yet. Who cared, it didn't matter...nothing mattered anymore, nothing meant a thing...

Axel stood at the edge of the group, leaning heavily on Xigbar's shoulder, his wounds crudely bandaged. One of the vampire slayers, a blue-haired young woman, stood up and turned towards Axel.

"Who dealt the final blows?" she said. Her voice was serious, no nonsense. The kind of girl Zexion might have been attracted to, had it not been for Demyx.

"Not me," Axel said, shrugging. "It was the vampire, the incubus I told you about, who took the Cross...maybe him..."

He turned. His eyes landed on Zexion's.

Zexion cursed in his head, but aloud, all he could croak was, "I'm sorry."

Axel's face, already dangerously pale, lost what little color remained. He threw Xigbar's hands from his shoulder and gave him a push to ensure he stayed back. Slowly, his every step ringing in the silence and lingering in the air, too long, he walked towards Zexion. His walk was more of a lurch and he had to cling to the wall for support, but his eyes blazed with a ferocity that sliced to the core of Zexion's being. Sliced and sliced and sliced until nothing was left.

"I'm sorry," Zexion croaked again, and this time tears blurred in his vision.

"What did you do," Axel whispered, his gaze slipping, involuntarily, towards where the Demyx monster cowered against the wall. "_What the fuck did you do, you little - "_

"I'm sory, I didn't mean, I'm so sorry," Zexion was crying freely now. He hadn't cried until now. It hadn't truly sunk in - how much he'd hurt Axel. Axel, of all people. That was all Zexion had done, ever since he'd first gotten the caprice to climb into Axel's open window. He had first laid bare all of the slayer's insecurities, tortured him with them...then he'd turned his student, only halfway that was true, but didn't that make it even worse a sin? Then he'd had the temerity to fall in love with Demyx, his first student, the one that Axel had always felt he'd failed...

And now he'd done this. The final straw.

When he loved, he harmed. Too badly.

"_What do you mean you're sorry - why the fuck did you do this - " _Axel was spitting and frothing, raging, his face gray, gesturing madly. Xigbar held him back, yelling nonsensically at him, trying in vain to calm him down. But Zexion knew Axel and he knew Axel wouldn't calm down anytime soon, nor should he. Zexion deserved this, all of Axel's rage. No, he deserved much more than this and both he and Axel knew that.

The blue-haired woman blinked, her eyes falling on Demyx. It struck Zexion that she was very pretty, and he hated her for that. "Is that...the human slayer? The one that we sent out an execution order for?"

Oh. Right. He'd forgotten that. He had comforted Demyx after that, hadn't he? Idiot, to think that _he _of all people had the right to comfort a human, to _love _a human...

"Why?" Axel whispered, his voice hoarse. It appeared he'd exhausted his energy screaming, much as Zexion had. "Why? I don't understand...I thought you loved him..."

His face had collapsed in pain. Genuine pain, and a lack of understanding. He truly had believed that Zexion had loved Demyx, Zexion saw with a twinge of surprise. Strange. He hadn't thought Axel did...he'd thought all along, Axel had thought that Zexion had hoodwinked Demyx (much as Zexion himself had thought so early in their relationship, oh that first time Demyx had confessed, it was too painful...).

But Axel had believed, of course he had. Because he knew what love was like.

"I do," Zexion whispered. "I do. I love him so much...it's because I love him that I..."

"That you tried to _turn _him?" Axel spat. But then his eyes widened and a look of horrified understanding dawned on his face. "Oh, no, no...don't tell me..."

His words were flat, deadpan, yet coursed with barely suppressed emotion.

"You didn't try to give him the Gift."

All Zexion could do was nod.

In an instant, it seemed that all of Axel's rage had fled him in one fell swoop. He just stood there, sad and resigned and shaking, but no longer was he angry at Zexion. His gaze was filled with something even worse - sympathy. Sad understanding.

Rage boiled inside Zexion. _He didn't deserve that. _Not from Axel. He deserved nothing less than Axel's spitting fury, his bottomless rage. For Axel to sympathize with him was the last thing he wanted.

"Why would you do that?" Axel said, sounding more sad than angry. "You know you're not strong enough, even the most senior of purebloods have trouble giving it...and to Demyx, too..."

"You said it yourself," Zexion mumbled, staring at the tear-stained concrete beneath his hands because that was better, infinitely better, than looking at Axel. "I miscalculated. I misjudged. This wasn't the first time."

_But it was the worst._

_I have no illusions it will be the last._

"What are we still doing here?" the woman said. "It seems Xemnas and his second have been defeated, so we should leave while we can...there's no point in staying around. This vampire, let's - " She indicated Demyx with the long, staff-like stake clutched in her hand.

"Aqua. No." Axel was on her an instant, wrapping his long fingers around her wrist and forcing her to lower her weapon. She gazed at him, looking confused but not indignant.

"Axel? What's the matter?"

"No. Don't kill him. You don't understand...there's so much going on here, you don't understand. Let...me...deal with him."

He looked as if he was torturing himself with every word, and his voice shook with the last syllable. _Him. _Demyx. He had almost been about to say Demyx's name, Zexion realized, but he couldn't bring himself to.

Zexion wasn't bothered. He wouldn't have had the strength to say as much as Axel had.

"That ain't...Mullet, is it?" Xigbar said to Axel.

Axel said nothing. He looked like he was ready to be sick. Slowly, he turned to face Zexion, and gestured for him to stand. Zexion couldn't obey, though, and he didn't want to. If only he could lie here from now until forever...lie here beside Demyx, beside his greatest sin, his most heinous crime.

"Kill me," he whispered to Axel, hopefully. "Please, kill me."

"I won't," Axel said, his tone infinitely gentle. Gentle - for the first time he was speaking gently to Zexion. Zexion hated every second of it. "I won't, because _he _wouldn't have wanted you to die."

"How would you know," Zexion said more than asked.

"Ask yourself. I think you know too. He wouldn't want this." Axel exhaled. "Ah, hell. Just come with us, you. Where else do you have to go?"

_That's easy. Hell._

_And Demyx wouldn't have wanted to turn into a vampire in the first place. Not even a pureblood. What does it matter what he wants anymore? Even in his life, he never got what he wanted._

That wasn't true. For better or worse...

He _had _gotten Zexion.

* * *

It seemed that the vampire slayers had made Axel's villa into their temporary headquarters, as they sorted out everything that had happened in the warehouse of the Coven of Thirteen that night. Messengers kept running in and out, keeping up a constant stream of updates - the South-Central European Coven had fallen apart - the House of Jenova was threatening to step in the power vacuum Xemnas had left vacant - the Chinese Coven claimed it had never been part of the alliance in the first place -

All things that Zexion couldn't care less about. He kept himself locked in his old room, the room that he had once shared every night with Demyx. The room in which they'd argued about Zexion having to drink human blood, how long ago that had been. He'd never have thought he would return to this house. This house which held nothing but bad memories.

Now...he wasn't so sure of that. He _had _met Demyx here, hadn't he?

But wasn't Demyx another bad memory? The worst.

Demyx remained on the opposite side of the room from him, because Zexion had been consistently ordering Demyx to keep a clear berth from him. He didn't want to be any closer to his newest servant - his once lover - than he absolutely had to. He had also ordered Demyx not to eat any human, and very grudgingly gave him mugs of heated-up blood bank swill when his hunger got too bad. Zexion drank from the mugs slowly, forcing him to keep the flavor on his tongue, the metallic tang and the bite of chemicals. He doubted that he would ever enjoy blood again, not after he'd tasted Demyx's and done this - turned the slayer who had so loved being human into the sort of monster he hated the most.

The lower half of Demyx's face was gloved with dried blood, because he didn't take nearly as much care as Zexion did when he drank from his mugs of blood. Zexion couldn't bring himself to care. It was better if Demyx looked more like a ragged monster, less like Demyx...then he could forget. Forget, for a brief second, who his servant really was.

But his gaze always landed on those horribly blue eyes, the eyes that despite their lack of any real, human feeling, were Demyx's, and he couldn't. Couldn't bring himself to forget.

Au contraire, he wanted to cling on to every last trace of Demyx he still had. Even if the trace didn't exist.

His only comfort was that he wasn't the only one who had lost everything. Axel had lost Roxas, after all, and he'd heard that Larxene's reaction to hearing of Marluxia's death was to grab a knife from the kitchen and attempt to behead Axel (who had delivered the news) with it. They had been engaged, a knowledge that curdled in Zexion's stomach when he remembered that Marluxia had, even after death, looked out for him and Demyx.

But had any of them lost as badly as Zexion had? At least, they would have their happy memories of their loved ones to comfort them. Zexion...Zexion had this shell of Demyx. This mindless monster. Every time he looked upon Demyx he would be reminded of not only that disastrous night but also what _could have been _-

Demyx as a beautiful pureblood, eternally beside him...

What nonsense. He should have seen it. Demyx as a vampire? Impossible. Hadn't he already argued with Demyx about the Gift of the Immortal? _What's so bad about that? How 'bout the fact that I'd be a bloodsucking monster? _Demyx had been so passionate, and yet Zexion had convinced himself that the slayer's last minute desperation, as he died, would be enough to overcome his deeply ingrained beliefs. Demyx _loved _being human, he had made that much clear in their argument. Zexion couldn't understand it, but it was there and it was genuine.

He'd been a selfish idiot - selfish as always - thinking that it hadn't mattered.

Zexion wrapped his arms around his legs and pulled them close to his chest. Shivering. Ever since he'd done that to Demyx he couldn't feel warm again. Couldn't bring himself to.

There was one way to end his current predicament and he knew it - get rid of Demyx. The made vampire served no purpose; Zexion didn't want him and looking at him only hurt him, made him feel like his insides were getting cut up with a sharp knife. Killing Demyx would end that part at least...remove the physical manifestation of his guilt.

Thinking about it that way made him feel worse. Even now, after everything that had happened, he couldn't think of anything except in terms of how it would hurt or benefit him. A manipulator's way of thinking. And the thought of killing Demyx - even an atrophied husk of the vibrant slayer - was enough to make his insides coil upon themselves. His mind shut down whenever he even flirted with the possibility.

Kill Demyx? Him?

Impossible.

In the end, he was too weak. Too weak to do anything but remain locked in this state of flux. With this Demyx with which he wanted nothing, and yet couldn't make himself destroy.

No surprise. He'd been the weakest one, all along. Stupid, to think that just because he'd been through more, that made him stronger than Demyx and Axel and Roxas. But they had faced their challenges with far more bravery than he could even think of summoning. Everything he'd done had been motivated by sheer desperation and survival instinct. Even his decision to save Demyx's life - because in that panic-flashed instant when he'd first seen the extant of Demyx's injuries, he had seen a future without Demyx and that _burned. _It burned his insides worse than swallowing the Cross of the Kingdom could.

Solely because he'd wanted to alleviate that burning, he had bitten Demyx. Not for Demyx's sake. His own.

Maybe this...the growling monster opposite him...was his penance for his selfishness.

* * *

Axel had never felt more tired, yet more alert at the same time. He was grateful for the deluge of slayers and messengers that kept besieging his house, because as annoying as it was to never have a private moment, it meant that at least he didn't have time to wallow in his grief. To let his grief destroy him. He _knew _it would, if he allowed himself to stop and dwell it on it - the tendrils lashing at the corners of his consciousness would thicken, darken, and seize him by the middle and bear him down and ensure that he never got up again. If he ever thought about the enormity of what had happened...

Well, he didn't want to, so he threw himself into anything that could distract him with a fervor.

Even if it meant having to send constant, near-identical reports to the Slayer Society, even if it meant having to answer the constant queries of the Slayer Society's representative in his house, Aqua. He told them all the truth, didn't leave out a smidgeon. He talked about how Zexion had first seduced him, then of mastering Zexion (much to his satisfaction, Aqua winced and excused herself every time he went in depth on his mastering techniques), and of the party, and of Roxas, and of Demyx's feelings for Zexion, and of dying and coming back to life - everything.

In a way, it was catharsis, to speak of everything, to let it tumble from his chest in a dull, clipped, emotionless words. He never thought about the words he was saying, just spoke. If he thought, the tendrils would seize him. But if he spoke, he kept them at bay.

Still, the Society brimmed with questions. They wanted to know exactly what he and Ansem and Wise had discussed, what had facilitated Ansem the Wise's survival for two hundred years, and details, details, _details _about the Coven of Thirteen and Xemnas. There were more than a few questions about Zexion, too, which Axel answered to the best of his ability. To hell if he was going to sic the Society agents upon Zexion.

He didn't know why he felt so strangely protective of Zexion - if anything, he should hate no one more. Yet every time he thought about the passionate little incubus who had thoroughly ruined his life, he felt nothing but a sick, shuddering sort of pity. He didn't _like _Zexion, never would...but he could no longer bring himself to hate Zexion. Hell, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. He had completely deadened himself to the world. One defense mechanism against the grief. The tide.

Namine was now living in his villa - he supposed that the manor held nothing but bad memories for her now. Axel spent all the free time he could with her, even though they never had much to say to each other. Maybe he felt sorry for her, or responsible for what had happened to her. She'd lost all the family that she had ever had, after all. Even if DiZ wasn't much family...

It was a shitty reason to want to hang out with anyone, but Namine never begrudged him for it. Maybe she even liked his company; he wasn't sure. Certainly, he did nothing but sit there and chain-smoke and make occasional stabs at conversation with her, but maybe the point was that he was _there, _at least, and not ready to leave anytime soon.

_You're here and I'm here and that's all that matters. _If only he could still believe that. Demyx being "here" didn't make anything better.

After a while, Axel stopped answering Aqua's queries. He was quite sure that they were beginning to repeat. Every time she asked him a question, Axel had one ready to shoot back at her:

"Why didn't you come earlier?"

Indeed, why hadn't she. In his eyes, that was her greatest crime. Her crime and the crime of all the official Society slayers who had come pouring into the Coven of Thirteen at the eleventh hour, after pretty much everyone important was dead - after _Xemnas _had died. If they'd come sooner, maybe they'd have killed Saix before the damned wolf could have gotten to Demyx, and then Zexion wouldn't be forced to use the Gift on him. And Demyx would still be alive and whole.

"That's enough," she said to them the latest time he asked the question, the question which she never answered - even pretended to ignore. Which irritated him more than he could say. "Don't act as if you have a monopoly on righteous indignity. You're not the only one who lost someone."

"No, I'm not," Axel agreed, heatedly. "But don't you think many more people wouldn't have lost their loved ones if your lot had come sooner?"

"Then why didn't you contact us sooner?" Aqua demanded. She stood there, framed by his kitchen doorway, in an expensive dark suit, looking for all the world like a lawyer or any other such professional, completely isolated from a world in which battle and blood and revenge reigned supreme. But he saw the hard cast to her eyes and the firmness of her posture and he knew that she was a warrior to the core. Like him.

"We wouldn't even have come," Aqua continued, "had one of your slayers not placed an emergency call to HQ. Believe me, we whipped together as good of a team as we could at such a short notice, but if you had just contacted us earlier, we would have participated in the strike with you and the amount of casualties could have been avoided."

The worst thing was that Axel knew that she was right. Every word. He felt sick, but tried not to let it show.

"Yeah, well...I thought we could do it on our own."

Aqua blinked. "Of course. That's the way all you families are, isn't it?" There was no accusation in her tone.

Once upon a time Axel would have argued that statement, but now he couldn't agree with it more. In hindsight, it had been an incredibly stupid decision - striking at an entire coven, plus their werewolf allies, with only eight slayers, three of whom weren't formally trained or experienced. Yet the thought of calling the Slayer Society itself for help hadn't struck any of them, because the families were too used to acting on their own - Axel's especially - and thought that depending on the Society bureaucrats was a sign of weakness.

Axel's eyes burned, but to hell if he was going to cry in front of Aqua.

"You know, Axel, you're not the only one who's lost someone to the vampires...the way that you have," Aqua said, almost gently. "My partner Ven and I...we had to kill our friend Terra after he was turned into a vampire."

"I'm sorry," Axel said hollowly.

"Don't be," Aqua said, though she seemed to be avoiding his gaze. "It's the nature of the business, that's all..."

"But it doesn't hurt any less," Axel said, "when it's a friend."

"No," Aqua agreed, and her voice was so quiet that he had to lean forward to listen to her. "It only hurts more."

They gazed at each other and then Axel had to turn away. His throat was clenching and he kept thinking about Roxas, and Demyx, and what he had to do.

"I'll call the Society when I think I'm ready to return to slaying," he said simply, and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Zexion led Demyx into the courtyard, right next to the pool where they had first conversed. The night was cool and dark, exactly the way he liked it, but he spared it no attention. He felt the pinpricks of starlight on his skin and they made him shiver, because he remembered the time that he and Demyx had slept together inside the coven headquarters, during which he'd created an illusion of darkness and starlight...

So many memories. So many things he thought he'd forgotten, but he hadn't.

He faced Demyx.

Demyx stared back at him, growling softly. Stared at him with those eyes that weren't his. Yet _were. _That brilliant clear blue, even becoming a made vampire couldn't dilute it. Zexion searched Demyx's face hungrily, searching for something, anything, on which to anchor himself. He tried to convince himself that this wasn't Demyx, that this was just any ordinary made servant, but he _couldn't. _He kept seeing Demyx. The same chin, jutting slightly. The same nose, slightly upturned at the end. That hair still done up in a ridiculous style, even though it was now pale and waxy as opposite to corn-silk blonde, and those eyes, always those eyes...

His breath caught in his throat, his vision blurred and his world fractured, and he realized he couldn't do it.

Not to Demyx.

It didn't strike him as bizarre when Axel walked onto the courtyard, even though it was the middle of the night and the slayer really ought to be asleep - Axel had taken to accompanying Namine to bed, since she had screaming nightmares if she slept alone. But there was Axel, his jaw clenched, his eyes startlingly dry yet burning with so much pain...

"I'm sorry," Zexion said, what had to be the hundredth time since he'd made Demyx.

What else could he say? How else could he express to Axel the true depth of his regret?

"You can't do it," Axel said. There was no judgment in his voice. His tone was flat, dangerously so.

"I'm sorry," Zexion said again. "I know - it's only right if I do it, but I, I can't bring myself to, I - "

"You were the one who loved him most, I know," Axel said quietly.

"I can't," Zexion said. Wanting to impress on Axel the depth of his feelings - but he knew it was wasted on Axel. Because Axel already knew.

"I know," Axel said. He kept fingering the trigger on the silver-plated gun he held in his right hand. His arm was shaking, almost imperceptibly, but Zexion noticed. "You're sure you're happier this way?"

Zexion lowered his head in a nod. "I don't want to...to go through life...reminded...every day..."

"Yeah, I know," Axel said. "Because you're weak." A pause, and then, "Like me."

Zexion couldn't say anything to this. He threw one last, longing glance towards Demyx, wanting to drink in everything he could about the monster that had once been his lover. Oh, Demyx Demyx, _Demyx, _always Demyx. He never wanted to forget. Not Demyx as he was now, all pasty-faced and blue-veined and growling, but the Demyx who had hugged him and loved him and kissed him and smiled at him with eyes the color of the sea, Demyx who never judged him, never never never, what would he say now if he could...

Maybe..._I understand. I'd do the same if our positions were reversed._

But the whole point - the whole unfair thing in a slew of unfair things - was that they _couldn't _be reversed. Did Zexion want them to be?

For the first time, he longed to become human. It was bizarre and it struck him mute with surprise, he couldn't even breathe. Why human? Humans were weak, sacks of meat, he'd explained as much to Demyx...but if he were to be human, then he and Demyx could live and grow old and die together. And they wouldn't have to go contrary to either of their natures, because Demyx had always been happier as a human and Zexion had been born as one...

Was that possible? Just as Demyx had hated the prospect of being a vampire, had been in love with his mortal life, Zexion couldn't imagine becoming a sweating, stinking mortal again. He _enjoyed _his immortality, even though it had brought him little more than pain.

How fitting. In the end, he and Demyx had not been separated by machinating outsiders or disapproving society, but simply their own natures.

"Go inside," Axel said. "Since I figure you don't want to watch."

Zexion didn't. He closed the door, leaned against the frame, and listened.

When he heard the shot, it was as if his insides had been sucked out. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his head in his hands, shaking from dry sobs. Even now he couldn't bring himself to cry. But he now knew. It was over, over, truly over, he could never go back again, over, all over -

Him and Demyx. Over.

* * *

The last time that Zexion saw Axel, the night was thick with clouds and buzzed with the electric anticipation of rain. He stood in front of the gate to Axel's villa and Axel stood behind it.

In Zexion's hands he clutched a suitcase. He hadn't owned much in life - most of his possessions were in his quarters in the Northern Coven, in fact - but he had gained some things, tiny things, from his life in Axel's villa and later DiZ's manor. His suit, his tuxedo. A few sheafs of Demyx's sheet music. The gun that Demyx had used in his life. And a saccharine vampire novel over which he and Demyx had argued.

They stood with the gate between them, him and Axel, and gazed into each other's eyes.

Axel said, "I'll take care of their funeral arrangements."

"I wouldn't dream of contesting that," Zexion said, quietly.

A longer pause, and then, "I don't ever want to see you again, you know that."

"I know," Zexion said. "I ruined your life, Axel. And I'm...you may not believe me, but I'm truly sorry for that. If only we'd never have met..."

Axel snickered. "I wonder about that. I mean, you did meet Demyx..."

"And I killed him."

"You were trying to save him."

"Why, exactly," said Zexion, looking sharply at Axel, "are you defending me?"

"Because," Axel said, which wasn't a helpful answer. He'd shoved his hands in his pockets and was shuffling from foot to foot, staring at the cracks in the flagstones beneath his feet. Zexion glared at him.

"That is not a reason."

"Because...listen...Zexion. I hate you. You know this, don't you? Of course I hate you. You turned both my students, and forced me to kill one of them. Don't you think I hate you? But the thing is, the reason why I haven't killed you next, is because...

"Because I don't hate you as much as I hate _me." _Axel smiled, but it was a haunted smile that didn't reach his eyes. "And since I don't feel like dying any time soon...I guess that means that you're not dying either. 'Cause I'd be a hypocrite if I killed you, but not me."

"Axel," was all Zexion could manage.

"You were right, you know. The first time we talked...when you said that I was terrified of failing them. I was. I still am. And I _did. _I failed them, I..." His voice became thick and he became immersed in the ground again. "I let them die, Zexion. I didn't do anything to save them, I..."

"You couldn't have saved them," Zexion said, scared - yet comforted - by this new side of Axel. Once upon a time, he'd have thought of it as another chance to manipulate the slayer, but how could he now? When he had an equal, if not larger, portion of the blame to shoulder?

"I could have, I know I could have. Hell...if only I'd have stopped Roxas from talking to you that time, if only I'd gotten to Demyx before Saix did...don't you see? _I could have. _And I didn't. I'm a failure. The worst teacher possible."

Zexion's head was pounding. "Don't talk that way. The fault is more mine and you know it."

"I know," Axel said, exhaling. "Which is why I don't want to see you again, got it memorized? You've brought me nothing but misfortune. If you don't mind, I'd like to be able to...move on ahead now."

"If possible," Zexion added.

"If possible." Axel nodded. His throat convulsed; he looked like he wanted to say more. Zexion waited patiently for him, even though the briefcase was becoming uncomfortably heavy. It took all of his effort to keep from dropping it.

"Is that all?" Zexion said, beginning to turn around like he was going to leave. This, if anything, would prompt Axel to speak up if that was what he really wanted. Zexion was, admittedly, curious as to what Axel would have to say to him. After all those months of knowing each other, hating each other, blaming each other, how would they bring it to a close? What would Axel choose? What had _he _chosen? He didn't know. It was all too complicated, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. Not so long as he was still carrying Demyx in his heart.

"No, wait..." Axel said, holding up a hand. His eyes were huge - terrified. He looked as if he were having second thoughts about saying what he was about to, but he plunged ahead, anyway, speaking quickly but not so quickly that Zexion couldn't understand him.

"Listen...you...wherever you go, Zexion...I wish you the best of luck."

For a moment, Zexion couldn't speak. His world was obliterated; the ground was gone beneath his feet; he was falling and falling and falling, deeper into impossibility. To imagine that Axel would say something like that...but they had both lost the same thing. They, like it or not, understood each other now.

It was perhaps that realization that prompted him to speak next. He nodded curtly.

"And the same to you too, Axel."

"Right, right." Axel looked a little relieved, now, and maybe even embarrassed. "Now get the hell away from my property."

Zexion didn't know why he felt so comforted to hear the familiar sharp, sardonic tone in Axel's voice. Once, he'd dreaded it, but now he welcomed it - it was a sign that the old Axel was slowly beginning to return. A sign that Axel would recover, at least somewhat. He deserved to. Nobody had been hurt more than him.

So he listened to Axel. Whirling around, not casting the villa a second glance, the incubus Zexion strode forward and vanished into the beautiful night.

* * *

Axel had commissioned Roxas' gravestone, and would have commissioned Demyx's, but he was told, much to his surprise, that Demyx La Monte already had a gravestone in the cemetery located near the tenements. The bewildered cemetery manager said that he didn't know _who _had commissioned it...but Axel suspected.

Roxas' gravestone was simple, bearing the boy's name and his approximate date of birth, and the actual date of his death, and a little inscription from Axel: _One who died as pure as he was born. _It was a little cheesy, but it seemed fitting.

Demyx's wasn't much more elaborate, but whoever had commissioned it had chosen to write an entire poem on the stone:

__

_Thinking of you, wherever you are.  
_

_We pray for our sorrows to end, and hope that our hearts will blend._

_Now I will step forward to realize this wish._

_And who knows:_

_Starting a new journey may not be so hard,_

_Or maybe it has already begun._

_There are many worlds, but they share the same sky —_

_One sky, one destiny._"

Strangely, Axel didn't feel bothered that Zexion had laid the final claim on Demyx. It was only fitting, because in the end, he was the one who had loved Demyx the most.

**End**

* * *

Call me a romantic at heart, but I love that little poem in _Kingdom Hearts II_...so I chose to use it here. As a tenuous connection to the canon, I guess.

And so the story's finished, but stick around because we have an epilogue "Light," which offers a little more closure on Zexion and Axel.

I'm really pleased by this chapter - it turned ot almost exactly like I'd imagined it, if not even better. I hadn't anticpated Aqua having as big a role as she did, but I like it, and the Namine-Axel interaction was unexpected, but it's given me the seeds of the epilogue. Granted, this epilogue has already been planned out ever since I planned this story. I had a lot of difficulty killing Demyx, though; his death was called for since the beginning, but all the same...I almost toyed with having him cling to a bit of his consciousness, enough that he recognizes Zexion as more than his master...but I decided against it. Even if Demyx maintains some of his consciousness, there's no way that he and Zexion could continue to love each other - it'd be pretty much like bestiality, because a made vampire really has nothing more than its instincts. I don't think anything romantic could ensue from made!Demyx and Zexion, because it'd pretty much be Zexion taking advantage of his mindless servant, using him to assuage his own guilt. And eventually he'll have to realize that his feelings are not mutual, are simply born from guilt, and that...would not be pretty. Killing Demyx is pretty much the only merciful thing to do to both of them. At least this way Zexy has a chance of moving on.

Plugging **Broken Memory **here. There's a tragic relationship at the heart of the story, but the tone is definitely more upbeat, so if you want somehing that won't make you cry, read it!

Keep up the wonderful reviews, my wonderful readers.


	31. Epilogue: Light

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Epilogue

_Light_

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene, Cleon

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness, scads of violence

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: And so this is the end. For good.

I was originally going to thank some of my more regular reviewers with a list of names...but I decided against it. Because every single one of you who has read, and reviewed, and contributed to the audience for this story in some way, has my unending gratitude. I'm still overwhelmed by the response to this story - this is easily my most popular story on this site, and the only one I can thank is all of you. For favoriting it, for putting it on your alerts, and above all, for leaving more than 400 wonderful reviews. Thank you all, I love you all, and I could not have done it without you. I'm not going to pretend that I was writing this solely for me - if I'd gotten no responses at all, I would not have stuck it out for thirty chapters and almost two years (yes, almost two years, you are right to be shocked...but the dates don't lie. I began this in November of 2008 and now it's June of 2010).

It's been a long journey, sometimes frustrating. Some people may not have appreciated the fact that I have a life, which prevented me from updating for stretches that ranged up to four months. I won't apologize for that, because I have made it clear from the beginning that I don't view fanfiction nearly as important as my real life and my serious writing. For that, I have to thank the ones who did choose to have faith in me and stay with me even when this fic ran the danger of dying. This story I do not view as the best representative of my writing - the early portions of the story are almost unreadably bad in my eyes. Back in 2008, it seems I was under the impression that I was writing for a comic book, given the number of words I italicized and the liberal usage of apostrophes and dashes. I think my prose has shown some improvement, however small. At least I'm not afraid to use full stops anymore.

And though these characters are not mine, I have grown attached to my interpretations of them and to the world that I have created. If anything, this story cemented my desire to create worlds of m own, because it is so _damned fun. _In fact, I've mentioned that I'd like to appropriate this world for use in an actual, original novel - you can see where this plotting would have led me if you look at my livejournal (the link is my homepage).

I've rambled enough here, so I'm going to allow to enjoy this epilogue.

* * *

Even twenty years after that disastrous day - the strike on the Coven of Thirteen - Axel still visited his two students' graves religiously. He didn't get to visit often, it was true; his job as a section chief in the Slayer Society meant that he was often away from the city, and when he wasn't away he was buried under mountains of paperwork.

All the same, he managed to drop by the cemetery at least once each year. He timed most of these visits so that they occurred relatively close to that day in January when Xemnas had fallen - the day that Roxas and Demyx had died. Roxas, literally, and Demyx...on that day, Demyx had ceased being Demyx any longer. He had technically died a few weeks later than that, but Axel preferred not to think about those nightmarish weeks...

He never brought his wife and children, because he didn't believe it was anything they needed to see. The past. They were aware - his wife especially - that he had suffered more than most vampire slayers, but never had he shared with them the extent of his suffering. He didn't want to, didn't need to. It wasn't fair to them - they were his family, his future. They didn't have anything to do with the sins of his past.

Those days he spent alone, crouching in front of the two graves, his hands on his knees and thinking, always thinking, of what happened and what could have been...

He allowed himself the thoughts that never dared cross his mind the rest of the year.

Always, Axel came during the middle of the day, at the sunniest hour, when the graveyard was awash in light and looked almost fake...unnatural, somehow. More like a movie set of a graveyard than an actual cemetery in which corpses were buried. Cemeteries were supposed to lit only by the full moon on a dark and stormy night...but it was better that he visited during the day, because it felt more real. Less like a dream.

And, on a more pragmatic note...

He wasn't the only one who visited.

Every time he came to the gravestones, he brought twin bouquets of flowers - the arrangement was different each year, reflecting nothing except which flowers he could buy for cheap this time of the year - but the grave to the left was already festooned with flowers. Flowers with long green stems and fan-like purple-and-white blossoms: irises. A carpet of irises so thick that he had to brush them aside to even read the name and dates, let alone the poem.

DEMYX LA MONTE

July 14 1989 - January 17 2009

The first time that he'd visited the grave, he had, in a fit of immature vidinctiveness, thrown aside all three of the irises lying atop the stone and stomped on them until he'd crushed them into a purplish pulp. He was rewarded for his spite the next year, when the stone was covered with a veritable mountain of irises, so thick that he'd spent a good twenty minutes clearing them out.

Since then, he and Zexion had through trial and error reached an unspoken compromise. Zexion could cover the stone with a single layer of irises, and in exchange Axel would be allowed to place his own bouquet atop the stone as well. The thought filled Axel with a sense of sad irony - even after his death, the two of them were still fighting over Demyx - but slowly, he'd learned to accept it. Even enjoy it. Somehow, for a reason he couldn't name, his throat always tightened whenever he approached Demyx's grave and saw it carpeted with purple, white, and green.

A symbol that he had been loved and was still being loved.

After he'd rearranged the irises over Demyx's grave so that the boy's name was readable - he deserved at least that - and positioned his bouquet, he spared no more attention on Demyx. Demyx had already been mourned that night, after all, and much better than Axel could. Instead, he turned his attention on Roxas' grave. Leaned his bouquet against the weathered stone and sat back in the grass and thought and thought and thought. So many things. So many regrets.

Such a short time he'd spent with Roxas. As a teacher, and later as a lover. It had all passed by so quickly - it always amazed Axel to think that it had been less than four months, in all - yet he refused to forget a single day. Engraved it in his soul, so that the memories could come flooding forth whenever he visited the graves, as clear as the day they'd happened.

Roxas' death, Demyx's death, his last conversation with Zexion...

Everything.

He knew he should move on, but just one day of reliving those events - couldn't he have at least that?

"And you're a hypocrite, too," he said to the irises, slowly wilting under the winter sun. "Look at you. You just can't let go, can you?"

He didn't mind, though. To know that one other person had not forgotten...it comforted him more than he could say. More than he would ever tell Zexion, if he could.

* * *

Axel decided that he hated no one more than fat German tourists at this instant. Well, he _thought _they were German. He couldn't tell. All he could tell was that there was a mob of them, all in identical T-shirts, and they weren't speaking English, and they were all overweight, and they were currently occupying all of the streetcar's seats.

"Honestly, you'd think that just by using some fucking logic, they'd have figured out that it'd be better if _they _stood and let everyone else have the seats. It'd be more efficient; more people would be able to fit in the seats than _those _Jabbas. It ain't rocket science, got it memorized?" Axel groused as he clung to the pole.

"Axel, _please," _his wife said. "I keep telling you, if you're going to swear, don't do it in front of the kids."

"Aww, they can't hear me," Axel said with an airy wave. His two ten-year-old daughters - the ones his wife was really worried about, since their son had ended up taking after Axel in every respect - were currently staring out of the open window, jabbering excitedly to each other and not seeming to care about their cramped quarters. They gave no sign at all that they'd heard their father's lecture.

"Geez, Pop, what's wrong with a little standing? I mean, you're a _vampire slayer,_" said his son, a tall, stringy sixteen-year-old who Axel had named after his father. His facial markings - the signs of his phoenix blood - were red and narrow, much less obtrusive than Axel's.

"Yeah, well, I'm a vampire slayer who's been tromping up and down San Francisco all day, so you can forgive me for wanting to sit my ass down for just one second," said Axel, glaring daggers at the babbling tourists.

"You have no stamina at all, yo," said his son with a laugh. He wasn't clinging to the pole yet, because the streetcar had yet to start - the conductor was intent on getting it full, though Axel felt it was already swelled beyond its capacity by the chubby tourists. He leaned against the window, grinning languidly and looking utterly at peace with himself. Axel wondered if he'd been that annoying at sixteen.

"When you yourself have just turned forty-two, you can talk, Reno," Axel snapped.

"Papa." A tug on his shirt; Axel looked down at his daughter Demi. She was a quiet, serious girl; whereas Reno was as tall and red-haired as Axel, Demi and her twin Roxanne were blonde, blue-eyed, and petite, like their mother.

Neither of them had been infused with vampiric blood - it had been Axel's decision. After suffering through what this life did to people, he'd decided that he would at least offer his daughters a chance for a normal life. The daughters he'd named for the two who had suffered the most, although it seemed he had named them incorrectly - Demi was the quiet, introspective one, while Roxanne was loud and good-natured and loved music.

Sometimes he wondered if Reno resented him for having to follow in his footsteps while his sisters didn't have to, but it seemed Axel's fears were unfounded: Reno didn't seem to care about anything except vampire slaying. He was even better than Axel had been at his age, something Axel couldn't decide if he should be proud of or disturbed by.

"What is it?" Axel asked Demi.

"Forty-two _is _the Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, isn't it?" she said, her eyes huge and unblinking and focused on his. Axel sighed and patted her on the head.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I heard you say it," Demi said. "In the books I'm reading, they say that forty-two is the Answer - "

"Yeah, well, it is," Axel said, "and it's also how old your poor father is. If only I could sit down..."

"Hey, Pop," Reno called - he'd somehow maneuvered himself towards the far end of the streetcar, even though that required passing through a thick tourist blockage. "Can I stand on the outside?"

Axel thought about the people he'd glimpsed clinging to bars on the sides of the streetcars rocketing through the city, and immediately said, "Absolutely _not, _got it memorized? Come back here!"

"Why not, yo?" Reno complained.

"Because it's _dangerous." _A vein was twitching in Axel's temple. He'd thought that compared to taking out an entire coven, raising children could not possibly be difficult, but oh, how he had thought wrong. If a day passed in which he suffered only a regular headache instead of a migraine, he considered it a job well done. Every morning when he woke up he was surprised that he, his wife, and his children were still alive. Truly, it was a miracle.

"Oh, c'mon, I helped you kill that African vampire just last week, you're a hypocrite if you say _this _is dangerous - "

"I allow you to kill vampires," Axel growled, "because you've trained to do that since you were four. I will not allow you to hang off the side of a streetcar - by a single pole - while passing through heavy traffic."

"You're such a _sourpuss, _Pop, hard to believe you're a section chief," said Reno. "Why can't you be a _cool _section chief, like Cloud - "

"Can you talk about anything besides vampire slaying?" Axel said. "I'm not a vampire slayer during this entire week, got it memorized? I'm your father and this is a fun family vacation that we're all gonna enjoy, got it fucking memorized?"

"Sure thing, yo," said Reno, though his grin clearly said he hadn't got it memorized. He sauntered back towards Axel, not caring when he bumped into a particularly obese German tourist - the tourist hurled a torrent of indignant nonsense towards him, which Reno rightly ignored.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself so far," noted Axel's wife, smiling slightly.

"Got a fucking headache," Axel grumbled, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. The air in the streetcar was hot and stuffy and he wondered why the damn thing hadn't started moving yet.

"Hey, Papa!" It was Roxanne this time, a source of almost as many headaches as Reno. If only all of his children could be more like Demi...although, he could do without the apropros-of-nothing questions about _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. _It was a little too much asking for his children to be normal, though, when you were the vampire slayer Axel La Monte of all people.

"Yep, what's going on?" he said with a sigh. The German tourists were jabbering and pointing at him and Reno. He wondered what they were saying and decided he didn't particularly care.

"Druella - " Xigbar's daughter, figured, why couldn't his kids play with better-behaved children? " - told me that vampires these days, they can disguise themselves as human and go out during the daytime, is that true?"

"Druella's full of lies, yo," said Reno airily.

"But she's _thirteen," _said Roxanne as if that settled everything.

"And your bro's sixteen, yeah? And he's actually killed vampires, not like Drooly - "

"Her _name,_" said Axel's wife," is Druella. Don't be so disrespectful to your friends."

"Drooly is nobody's friend! You just make us play with her because she's the kid of Papa's friend," said Roxanne, surprisingly insightful.

"So what if I do," Axel snapped. "Nobody deserves to be lonely, you hear? _Nobody. _Especially not those who other people don't understand and treat like shit because of that - "

He broke off, unable to continue, realizing that he wasn't speaking to his children but to himself. To his young, stupid self who had seen nothing wrong with treating Zexion the way he had...

"Axel," said his wife, very quietly. She placed her hand on the crook of his elbow, keeping her touch light; Axel forced himself to breathe.

"Yeah, sorry..." he said to his kids, who were staring at him in wide-eyed confusion - they had sensed that there was more to his anger than just righteous indignation over a bullied child. "Listen, don't talk about vampires or Druella or Xiggy or anything like that during this week, all right? We're here to have fun, nothing else..."

Roxanne _was _right to a degree - though the vampire population had been greatly diminished after the fall of the Coven of Thirteen, individual vampires had only grown more dangerous. _Some _genius magician had invented charms that many vampires wore as earrings, which allowed them to go about in broad daylight; the skilled illusionists among them were able to impersonate humans. Just a few years ago there'd been some highly publicized attacks in a high school, when it turned out that one of the students was really a vampire who'd hidden himself among the student body to better access victims.

This, Axel thought, was an ironic echo of the silly vampire books that had been popular around the time that he'd met Zexion.

But San Francisco had a vampire slaying force of its own (its section chief was actually one of the prime organizers of the Pride Parade...), so Axel decided that he needn't worry excessively about a vampire attack. If one happened, he and Reno could easily handle themselves. All the same, he glanced surreptitiously around the streetcar, looking for anyone specific - somebody with too-large, too-prominent, earrings, or someone who was trying to keep to the shadows...

Everything was normal, of course. Just fat chattering tourists everywhere he looked, and a conductor yelling for more people to fill up the damned car. Axel sighed. At this rate, they were never going to move.

"Papa?" Roxanne said, querulously. "Listen...umm...I'm sorry for saying those things about, um, Druella..."

"Aww, Rox," Axel said, his heart - never completely whole - breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. He knelt down and placed his hands on her shoulders, so that he was staring in her eyes. Bright blue eyes that reminded him all too much of _theirs_...

"It's all right. I know you meant nothing wrong. You've got a big heart, you and your sister both; hell, even your brother, you all...I think I did you right in the end, all of you..."

"Papa," Roxanne said, looking faintly embarrassed.

"Sorry," Axel said, making to stand up.

Of course, at that instant, the conductor _finally _decided to start the streetcar.

The best thing Axel could say about that incident was that Roxanne hadn't ended up harmed _that _badly; she'd crashed straight into her mother and that had cushioned her somewhat. Axel was not so lucky. He spent the rest of the day walking around with cotton stuffed up his nose, since it had started bleeded copiously after he'd gotten a faceful of the pole.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon proceeded without incident, thankfully enough. The La Monte family spent most of the afternoon visiting Chinatown, where they loaded up on snacks and boba teas from the little bakeries, crowded together in the tiny factory that apparently manufactured a good percentage of all the country's fortune cookies, and had dinner at a dim sum restaurant. By the end of the day, Axel had removed the blood-soaked balls of cotton from his nostrils, and was happily exhausted, along with the rest of his family. Maybe he ought to take vacations more often...

But even on vacation, he couldn't entirely shut down his slayer's instincts. Throughout the day, he'd felt a constant prickling at the edge of his senses...a prickling he couldn't explain, except that he was aware - on some level - that someone was following him. He didn't voice any of his suspicions to his family, and whenever he turned around to see if there was anything suspicious behind him, his eyes caught nothing but the usual crowd. Nothing that looked like it could be a vampire...

The next two days flew by as well: they spent an inordinate amount of time in Union Square, shopping at the fancy boutiques because of Roxanne and Axel's wife; Reno got his revenge by taking them for a harrowing walk through the Tenderloin afterwards. They visited the Castro as well, hunting for the hidden slides that Demi was sure existed, but that trip was cut short when Axel ran into the section chief pride organizer, who tried to take him aside to regale him with endless gossip about the Slayer Society. Axel had excused himself as quickly as possible, since the whole point of this trip was that he did nothing slaying related. Then they went to the Hard Rock Cafe on the pier, per Roxanne's insistence, and Axel remained silent for much of that dinner even though the rest of his family was laughing and marveling at the live acts, because he was suddenly struck by the thought that Demyx would have enjoyed this trip had he been alive to...

Demyx would be thirty-nine this year. Would he have a family of his own? Or would he still be with Zexion?

It was too painful to think about, so Axel tried not to think at all.

Throughout it all, though he was enjoying himself - the La Monte family, simply by virtue of being the La Monte family, rarely got to spent time together like this - he couldn't help but nurse the nasty suspicion that somebody was following him. The suspicion grew and grew and only solidified as the days passed, though he never voiced it to anyone, not even Reno. If it was a rogue vampire, Axel could take it out easily, especially since the vampire seemed to be following the family around during the daytime. Vampires _could _go out in the daytime now, but the charms sapped much of their strength.

But Axel began to suspect that the vampire was not a random rogue. In fact, he was quite sure as to the vampire's identity.

_I am not the only one who has yet to let go of the past._

A bed of irises, surrounding a name and nineteen too-short years.

On the evening of the third day, the family climbed up Lombard Street - billed as the crookedest street in the world - to reach their hotel as they did every night. There were some grumblings from Demi and Roxanne, who were not used to so much physical exertion, and everyone was exhausted after a long day of traversing San Francisco. Axel remained silent, deep in thought. Certain that this couldn't last. He would never enjoy himself so long as a pair of midnight blue eyes kept following him fthroughout the city.

He slept, beside his wife. It took him a long time to fall asleep; he kept his eyes on the ceiling, idly seeking patterns in the plaster, and his mind turned. It was summer, far removed from that icy day in January in which he always visited the graveyard to pay his penance, but once again the unwelcome thoughts were infiltrating his mind, creeping in like silent snakes. Choking him. He placed his hand on his wife's shoulder and felt the rise and fall of her chest, and listened to the gentle snoring of his three children piled up on the next bed. His heart ached and he realized that he loved them - all of them - almost as much as he had loved Roxas during that brief and wonderful month.

He was the crummiest husband and father in the world, still stuck on a half-vampiric boy who had not breathed in twenty years.

It was still dark when he opened his eyes again. Almost five in the morning. Predawn. Axel sat up, silent and graceful with the instincts that had been honed into him over three decades of vampire slaying. None of his family moved. They remained peaceful, asleep, untroubled. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He opened the door soundlessly, stepped out onto the sidewalk, shivered in the chill of the early morning, which he felt too acutely through his T-shirt. The sky was still dark blue, but the edges were tinged with red, the dull fire of the coming dawn.

Zexion leaned against a nearby wall, his arms folded, his eyes as piercing as Axel remembered.

The breath caught in Axel's throat. He'd known, intellectually, that this moment was coming, ever since he'd realized who had been following him and his family. But nothing could have prepared him for it. The memories. They came flooding back at him in a single deluge, senseless and shapeless -

The words that Zexion had whispered at him that horrid first night, the night when everything had changed...

_"You cannot save anyone, can you? Poor weak fool. At least you have me..."_

What a cruel irony those words had turned out to be.

Staring at Zexion now, Axel was astonished by how little the incubus had changed over twenty years. Why should he have? He was an immortal vampire, by nature unchanging. Even now, he was still as pale and slim as Axel remembered, with the same slate-colored hair covering one eye (though it seemed somewhat shorter in the back than it had before), and penetrating, deep blue eyes with a dull fire burning inside them...a dull accusation. Always an accusation. Or perhaps Axel had always imagined that accusing light, because he thought it _should _be there...that someone had to blame him for everything that had gone wrong in his life, and nobody seemed better fit for that task than Zexion.

Or maybe Zexion really _did _blame him. That thought made him shudder.

In a way, the lack of change in the incubus' appearance only reinforced the few differences. He now wore earrings, large, frosted-glass globes in each ear - the charms that enabled a vampire to survive sunlight. His face seemed thinner, his cheekbones sharper, and his eyes...they were hooded and the skin around them was lined, incongruously so for someone who appeared so young. He looked like a shell-shocked soldier, still haunted by demons from a battlefield years ago.

Axel understood, because he saw that same look on his own face every time he glanced in the mirror.

Despite the elderly quality of his eyes, the rest of him seemed somewhat...younger. Or maybe it was because Axel had grown older. Back then, Zexion had physically been around the same age as him, just a little bit younger, so he'd found it easier to think of Zexion as a viable threat. Now, he saw nothing but a too-skinny teenager, only a little older than his own son, and he was amazed that he had ever feared Zexion. If anything, looking at Zexion made his heart hurt - from _sympathy. This child, _said the part of Axel that was all parent, _has been through so much. He deserves some measure of love and comfort._

But of course Zexion wasn't a child. He was even older than Axel, had suffered far more than Axel.

They faced each other, twenty years separating them, both equally afraid.

At length, Zexion spoke. His voice flat and measured, he said, "Good morning."

His voice was so _soft_... Axel found it hard to believe that Zexion had been so easily able to manipulate using it. He heard Zexion's voice whispering taunts and damnations upon him, but it was a mere echo down a tunnel twenty years long.

"It's you," Axel said. His voice felt overly loud, too hollow and slow. "I knew it was you."

"I knew you knew," Zexion said. "I thought for a little while that you did not, but you would have known...because you are still a vampire slayer."

"And you?"

Zexion jerked his thin shoulder in a shrug. "I do not know...even now."

They fell silent again. Axel continued gazing at Zexion, his mind buzzing with questions, but he didn't know where to begin.

Once again, Zexion was the one who broke the silence. "You have done well for yourself, haven't you? Marrying..._her, _of all people...and your children."

"The boy is Reno," Axel said. "The girls are Demi and Roxanne."

Zexion made a little noise that might have been a snort or cough or nothing at all. "My, my. You've changed a lot. I never thought that you would cut your hair..."

"That's the difference between twenty and forty," Axel said in a deadpan, running a hand through his hair that he now kept swept back from his forehead and done in a short ponytail. Then, more seriously, he added, "You haven't changed much, yourself."

Zexion exhaled. "That is the difference between a human and a vampire."

"I know," Axel said, with the dim sense that this was all wrong, but he didn't know how to fix it. To steer this conversation back into safer waters - but since when had there been such a thing as "safe waters" for the two of them? They had never conversed as equals, never would, because the memories were too painful, too tangled, between them.

There was a string binding them, but it was so hopelessly gnarled and knotted that they didn't know where it began or where it ended - and it felt less like destiny than a noose.

"What were you doing, anyway? Following me and my family around the city...you haven't been stalking me, have you?"

"Hardly." The noise Zexion made was definitely a scoff. "I was simply visiting the city for a little bit...and then I happened to glimpse _you _in the crowd. You'd changed a lot, but I could tell. You walked the same way, and your eyes...and you'd be around this age anyhow. So when I saw that it was you, I decided to..." His voice trailed off.

"Stalk me," Axel said.

Zexion shrugged again. "I don't know what possessed me, but..."

"You wanted to talk to me," Axel said, "even though I expressly told you during our last conversation that I never wanted to see you again."

"Maybe..." Zexion said. "I don't know. I don't know what possessed me to do any of this...it's just...I get the feeling that you have not gotten over it, have you?"

Axel remained silent. Zexion took that as a cue to plunge on ahead, speaking quickly, as if he had to get the burden of his words off his chest.

"Otherwise you would not have named your daughters after them...and I've seen enough of you these three days, witnessed all of your outbursts and the times when you pause and fall into melancholy silence, and I see you when you're sleeping, how you whisper their names..."

Once upon a time, hearing Zexion say all this - expose his weaknesses like this - would have caused Axel to fly into a senseless rage. But time and trauma had dulled his edges, and he could now only stand there, letting Zexion's words hit him like a series of well-timed blows, because they were true. Strange, how Zexion struck at him the worst not when he was intentionally being manipulative, but when he was speaking in a confused jumble, speaking _naturally_...

Speaking as he'd done with few others besides Demyx.

"You haven't gotten over it, either, have you?" Axel said, quietly. "Why else did you decide to follow me around?"

"That's not..." Zexion began, but he fell silent. Because he knew it was true.

"And you visit their graves, and those irises..."

"Fine. Point taken," Zexion said, though he didn't sound offended. "I haven't forgotten. I can't bring myself to forget. You can't either, can you? Even though you told yourself that you would move on...even after your wife, your children..."

"Something like that," Axel said, "is something you have to commit to your memory."

He spoke with a conviction he didn't feel. He gazed into Zexion's dark eyes, wanting some sort of understanding - some sort of reprieve. Reprieve from the nightmares that had haunted him for so long. Every night, he saw them. Roxas white and bleeding beneath him; Demyx a mindless, growling monster, his last sight his mentor raising a gun against him...

The corners of Axel's eyes stung but he felt no wetness. He just stood there, shivering and weak, suddenly aware of how cold the early morning air was...

"I understand," Zexion said. "It's best not to forget, but..."

"I want to be free," Axel said.

"You can, you know," Zexion said. He was gazing at Axel with the most curious look in his eyes - a sort of pained sadness, yet kindness as well. Kindness? That wasn't right. Zexion hated Axel, didn't he...?

Axel wasn't so sure of that. He no longer hated Zexion, after all. Wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't hate. If he himself, the darker and more bitter one by far, could let go of his hatred, it made sense that Zexion could as well. Perhaps better.

"_You _can," Zexion said again, and it sounded as if each word was costing him tremendous effort. "You can, while I cannot. Do you understand? I am a creature of the night, the darkness...it is my fate to lie in the shadows. I cannot posssibly move forward, because that requires stepping into the light. Something that my nature will not allow me to do."

"But you have those..." Axel said, pointing to the spheres dangling from Zexion's ears.

A brief, weary smile flashed across Zexion's face. "Oh, these? You truly think that these can _do _anything? I can enter daylight, yes, but...I cannot stay in it for long. I still must cling to the shadows, because if I stay in the sun too long I become tired, and sick, too tired for my powers to work properly. I'm sorry, the light will never be my province. The way it is yours."

"Mine, huh?" Axel said, smiling as well, but it was as fake as Zexion's. It hurt his facial muscles. "You really think that?"

"It is more yours than mine, at any right," said Zexion. His eyes were dark, dark and so very serious. For one wild flash of an instant Axel saw how Demyx could have - genuinely - fallen in love with Zexion. "Even if you choose not to...you still _can_."

In a vague way, Axel was aware of the pale red light beginning to seep upwards from the horizon, like a stain of blood. But most of him was focused on Zexion in front of him, solemn and unhappy and fierce, speaking with more conviction than Axel had ever heard from him before. More than Axel had ever heard from _anyone _before. It stopped the breath in his throat and made his heart pound slow and deep, making him more aware than ever of his humanity. He might have the blood of a phoenix, but in the end he belonged more with those of mortal flesh and mortal blood than to the world that the cold, pale, pulseless Zexion represented.

And he understood Zexion's words. Finally. Understood what the other immortal had been trying to impress on him. There were less than six feet separating them, but it might have been a canyon. Neither could cross it. Could know the other's world.

Nor did he want to.

"Move ahead. Put it behind you. Face the future with a smile, instead of constantly thinking _what could have been," _Zexion exhorted, his voice soft, pleading. "Do it for the both of us, Axel."

He began stepping backwards, disappearing into the shadows cast by the building. Back and back, the glass globes dangling from his ears shining as they caught the growing light from the rising sun.

"Walk forward, Axel. Because I cannot. Walk forward into the light."

Axel gazed at him one last time, at the midnight-colored eyes gleaming in the shadows, and obeyed. He turned and faced the sun spilling bars of golden light across the winding street, and didn't look back.

**Tainted But Beautiful - The End**

**15 July 2010**

* * *

Biblical quotes for the win. That quote features prominently in the novel _The Poisonwood Bible_, and though I have no pretensions that this little vampirefic is even one tenth as good as that work of art, I thought it would be a nice little reference, and very fitting for Axel's ending.

You can interpret this epilogue however you wish, but I will point out that yes, I was influenced to an extent by the epilogue to _Harry Potter_. I must be one of the few Potterfen out there who actually _likes _the epilogue... Axel's wife may be either Larxene or Namine or a random blonde, blue-eyed OC. The Namine interpretation is hinted at in the final chapter, but it's nothing definitive, and you can ignore it if you don't like AkuNami (but I do). Reno is a younger version of Reno from FF7. I use the "younger" as justification for any OOC-ness. The epilogue was originally going to be set in Rome, but I changed it to San Fran because I've actually been to San Fran and I enjoyed it a lot (Axel's itinerary is based on mine).

As for the future...I will be putting up one more "chapter," so to speak - a soundtrack, listing 14 of the countless songs I listened to that helped shape this story, and my explanations for how they pertain (or at least, how I _think _they pertain). I probably will not post much more on my fanfiction account after this. I won't make a blanket promise like I did a few months ago, because who knows, some insane caprice might strike me. But fanfiction definitely holds less an appeal than original fiction does for me at this moment. I am _much, much _more active on my fictionpress than my fanfiction, so I invite you all to check it out. My username's **Bickazer** and I'd love if you took a look at, and commented on, my to-be-100-chapters serial **Broken Memory. **I have no illusions that it will acquire as vast a readership as this story, but c'mon...I'd like to have at least something of a reader base. SO GO CHECK IT OUT YAH?

A long time ago, back when was into the pairing, I crapped out some vague thoughts for a sequel featuring a Reno/Yazoo pairing, of all things. I'm slowly getting back into that pairing, but writing the sequel means that I have to do some research into FF7 (beyond watching Advent Children), and I don't feel like doing that, so the sequel will be a long time coming. Plus, everyone interesting is dead by this point. In the meantime, you can go read **Broken Memory**, yah?

Thank you all for a wonderful almost-two years. And please keep reviewing and supporting me.

_Jander Panell_


	32. Playlist

**Tainted But Beautiful**

Playlist

No use getting overly excited for this update, since it's not another chapter, technically - rather, it's a list of fourteen songs that inspired me throughout this story, and my interpretations of them (at least how they pertain to the situations in _Tainted But Beautiful_). Some of these interpretations may be far off the mark as to what the songwriter was actually intending, but I don't care since I'm only explaining what inspired me, specifically, while I was writing this story. You can agree or not, or even suggest songs in your own reviews. I'm always searching for new music.

You can think of this as the soundtrack to the story, if you'd like.

* * *

1. "Undisclosed Desires"  
Muse

A song that I feel describes _perfectly _Demyx's feelings for Zexion, especially near the end of the story. Honestly, I could imagine Demyx singing this (and I almost picked it for the confession scene...but "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" is more of a classic, and it'd raise a lot of questions about the Slayer Society if they play songs from Muse's _The Resistance _at their formal balls...). I do mean it when I say there isn't a single lyric that doesn't fit. Go listen to the song, because I can't explain it any better than _it _can. Plus, it's a great song, but that's a given since it's on _The Resistance, _which is a great album by a great band.

The chorus, in particular, _is _Demyx's feelings, word for word:

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart  
__I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask  
__I want to exorcise the demons from your past  
__I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires of your heart_

It's like Muse was reading my mind.

* * *

2. "Starlight"  
Muse

This song I see as representing Demyx and Zexion's feelings for each other. It's another Muse song, my favorite in fact. I actually mentioned it in the notes for chapter fifteen, and if I had to get specific I'd have to say that "Starlight" is chapter fifteen's song. Unlike "Undisclosed Desires," I don't see a lyric-to-lyric fit, but the feel of the song - of longing to be by a lost loved one's side again- - fits them perfectly, especially around the period of time when Zexion is searching for the kidnapped Demyx. And the feeling of fighting through untold trials and tribulations (Matt Bellamy actually substitutes "our trials and tribulations" for "our hopes and expectations" at points in the live performances) to finally obtain that moment fits both the story and the song.

_Hold you in my arms  
__I just wanted to hold you in my arms_

and

_I'll never let you go  
__If you promise not to fade away, never fade away_

if anything, reflect the raw desire - not in a sexual sense, but wanting to be with someone - that is at the heart of _Tainted But Beautiful_'s Zemyx pairing. A sad irony given the ending.

* * *

3. "Can't Take My Eyes Off You"  
Muse

I don't have to explain this. Just read chapter twenty-six.

* * *

4. "Time Won't Let Me Go" (Moon Version)  
The Bravery

This I view as Axel's theme - it's got both the longing and melancholy which I think define his character in this story. Longing for a golden past, melancholy because that past never existed and he's aware of it on some level (_Whenever I look back on the best days of my life/I think I saw them all on TV_). There aren't really any lyrics I can name as being particularly "Axel," it's more the general feeling that the song inspires in me. Of struggling against time, because that's so _Axel. _I chose the Moon Version not particularly because it fits Axel better, but because I like it better.

* * *

5. "When The End"  
Itou Kanako & WATANABE

A song that probably not many of you have heard of; it's one of the ending themes to the BL visual novel _Lamento: Beyond the Void, _which I've never played but I am following the kind, kind soul who's playing through the entire game and subbing it on Youtube. It's a great game, and if I could understand Japanese I'd buy it because what little I understand of the story sounds fascinating. And it's got some _amazing _music. "When The End" is actually in English, and it's sung very well, with only some minor errors and hardly any accent on the part of the singers. It's a duet, too, which I just love.

"When The End" I see as fitting both of the major relationships in the story-Zemyx and AkuRoku. There's a sort of resignation in the song that the relationship will end tragically (both of them do), but an assurance that the mutual love that was there will live on. I'm a sucker for that sort of thing, as much as I am for tragic endings...so I see "When The End" as the song that Demyx and Roxas, if they could, would want to sing to Zexion and Axel, respectively (or rather, sing _with, _since it is a duet...). To reassure him that their hardships were not for nothing, that the love they had was real and will continue even beyond death.

_In darkness we seek the light  
__Though it may never be  
__Someday we might find  
__The sky we long so much to see_

Brr.

* * *

6. "So Cold"  
Breaking Benjamin

It seems the majority of these songs follow Demyx's feelings for Zexion, which I think makes sense since Demyx _is _the singer and I can actually see him singing some of these songs, which makes them feel like they fit better. "So Cold" is special because I see it as applying to the Zemyx relationship _after _the end, after Zexion so disastrously turned Demyx. It's what Demyx would have said to Zexion, reassured him even, if he could have, I'd like to think. Although Demyx lost his sentience by that point, so not even I would know. Funny, "So Cold" isn't a very reassuring song, but it _is _desperate, and that's more fitting to end-stage Zemyx than a happy chappy "everything's okay" song would be. Especially when the singer starts singing "It's all right" over and over again, with each one sounding more wildly desperate...brrr. I prefer the acoustic version, it sounds more haunting and I can actually understand the singer in that one.

_You're so cold but you feel alive  
__Lay your hand on me one last time_

is Demyx's last wish.

* * *

7. "Fighting"  
Yellowcard

This song's unusual in that I think it fits Zemyx in general, not just _Tainted But Beauitful_...but Yellowcard is the kind of band Demyx would enjoy, don'cha think? XD (Or at least I think so...) Again there's the theme of struggling against obstacles; in this case, the obstacles are created by the loved one _himself. _As such, this song probably fits circa the time when Demyx and Zexion were arguing in DiZ's manor. It's a song meant to convince someone who might have failed him several times that he still loves him, in spite of all that.

This is another song I might have used instead of "Can't Take My Eyes Off You."

I've always liked the bridge of the song the most, and it's the verse I've always applied to Zemyx:

_Said that I'd fight for the one that I found  
__I'm gonna stay here while I wait for you to come around  
__I'll fight, you're a part of me now  
__And I will never give up, no I'll never give up_

* * *

8. "The Other Promise"  
Yoko Shimomura

What can I say? This is Roxas' song, through and through. There are no words, but I'd say it sounds so very melancholy, it fits with the tragic events of Roxas' life in this story. But if ever someone were to write a Roxas to which this song does _not _apply, then I'd have to say they are writing Roxas wrong. The boy's story is a tragic one - the whole point behind his character, at least the way I see it, is that everyone's screwed him over. Hell, he was _born _screwed over. And nothing more than the haunting notes of the full orchestra (I use the Drammatica version, of course) can possibly convey that.

This song _is _Roxas, and I'm glad I've written a Roxas to which it still applies.

* * *

9. "Hysteria"  
Muse

For a change in pace, let's represent Zexion's feelings for Demyx. Yes, it's another Muse song, so I think by now you'd have figured out my favorite band. Currently, _Absolution _is my favorite Muse album, so it's a bit of a wonder why there aren't more songs from _Absolution _on this playlist...especially since I've already written a Zemyx fic to "Sing For Absolution." But anyway, "Hysteria." Not only does it have an insane guitar riff, but the lyrics - speaking of an animalistic desperation - I feel apply to Zexion's feelings for Demyx, his almost obsessive love. He _is _terrified to lose Demyx and he's very jealous about Demyx too - witness him getting annoyed every time Demyx mentions Axel in a vaguely suspicious way, and their argument in chapter 23, which basically centered around his fear of losing Demyx. And his reason for wanting to give the Gift, so Demyx could stay by his side for eternity - so he could _have _Demyx for eternity. Which is a very base desire, not intellectual at all...in a way, it represents a complete peeling away of his intellect.

All this I think is depicted perfectly in _Hysteria._

_And I want you now  
__I want you now  
__I'll feel my heart implode  
__And I'm breaking out  
__Escaping now  
__Feeling my faith erode_

* * *

10. "The Ocean" (Sun Version)  
The Bravery

Another song from the Bravery's amazing album "The Sun and the Moon," and one of my favorites. It's a song that I feel fits both of the survivors, Zexion and Axel. A lot of the songs I've listed so far deal with themes of loss, but none as potently as "The Ocean." It's pretty much a tale of a man who's left his lover behind, but can't stop thinking about her (or him, whatever). The lover doesn't have to be dead, but Demyx and Roxas are - and I'm certain that Zexion and Axel, respectively, will never forget them. They will be haunted for the rest of their lives (despite Zexion's exhortation to Axel to move on). And they both feel that they've failed their lovers, something that I think "The Ocean" touches on. The Sun Version fits better because it's slower and more melancholy, and hell, I just like it better (though the Moon Version is pretty neat too).

This is another song in which I feel the bridge is most appropriate, and has some truly beautiful imagery to boot:

_The sun and the moon and an ocean of air  
__So many voices and nothing is there  
__But the ghost of you asking me why  
__Why did I leave?_

* * *

11. "Iris"  
Goo Goo Dolls

Most of these songs fit relationships, but I feel that "Iris" fits Zexion specifically. His...image song, if you will. There's a melancholy air, an aura of desperation, and the lyrics are just perfect. _You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now _- it's pretty much Zexion's feelings for Demyx's in a nutshell, the way that "Undisclosed Desires" _is _Demyx's feelings for Zexion. And the fact is that throughout the story, Zexion is the one who wears the most masks, who means the most different things to the most people: to Axel he is a monster, to the members of his coven he is a mindless incubus, to Vexen he's...well, read chapter one of "Pure." But Zexion's deepest wish is that someone sees through all that - even the masks that he himself has put on - and sees the _real _Zexion. Which Demyx did, however briefly. And Demyx was the only one. This is the message that I feel is that the heart of "Iris," especially the chorus:

_And I don't want the world to see me  
__'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
__When everything's made to be broken  
__I just want you to know who I am_

Which perfectly represents Zexion's feelings throughout _Tainted But Beautiful, _with "you" being none other than Demyx, of course. Not to mention Zexion has a certain association with irises (the flower) in this story - just look at the epilogue.

* * *

12. "Mr. Brightside"  
The Killers

This is a more narrow, specific Zemyx song than many of the more general ones listed above. Since it's basically about either a guy who suspects his girlfriend is cheating on him or (if you follow the amazing music video's interpretation) a guy who's in love with a hooker, I feel it fits the Zemyx pairing circa chapter twenty-four. Y'know, after Demyx discovers that Zexion was sleeping with Axel. Not only does the subject matter of the song fit, since Demyx has fallen hopelessly in love with someone who by his very nature can't help but cheat on him, but the outlook - "I'm Mr. Brightside" - fits what he eventually chooses. "_Destiny is calling me_" - so, since he can't control anything, both his attraction to Zexion and Zexion's behavior, he'll accept it all. Resignedly, but he'll still accept it.

_Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab  
__While he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag  
__Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick  
__And it's all in my head  
__But she's touching his chest now  
__He takes off her dress now  
__Let me go_

I guess, if you imagine that Demyx was watching Zexion seduce Axel (well, he _was _listening).

* * *

13. "Time Machine"  
The Click Five

The AkuDemy song. I find the development of the AkuDemy storyline in _Tainted But Beautiful _fascinating, because I absolutely had not intended on it...it just appeared in the first two chapters, and I ran with it (partly encouraged by my sister...), to the point of giving them a full-blown relationship in the past. It worked out well, even though I normally do not ship that pairing. In fact, I find it a major turn-off. But it _works _for _Tainted, _somehow, and it makes Demyx and Axel's current relationship all sorts of awkward. Plus, it appeals to my fondness for the "Second Love" trope, because in the end Demyx gets over Axel and throws his feelings firmly behind Zexion. If I were ever to go back and revise the first few chapters (a notion I'm vaguely entertaining), I would definitely ramp up the AkuDemy tension.

Which brings us to "Time Machine," the song that I feel perfectly fits this story's AkuDemy undercurrent because it sounds outwardly jaunty, the way that Demyx tries to act about Axel, but it's really about missed opportunities and lost chances and what could have been, so many regrets. The chorus, both the "I" and the "you" versions, work especially well if you view this song from Demyx's perspective.

* * *

14. "Just Like You"  
Three Days Grace

It's surprising how few of these songs relate to the Axel/Zexion relationship, because I feel that that's ultimately at the heart of _Tainted But Beautiful. _Not in a romantic sense, but in the sense that everything in the story connects back to the two of them - the survivors. And AkuZeku is one of my favorite relationships (I'm sure if you did a count, more than 50 percent of what's up on this account ends up being AkuZeku...). The thing is, none of the songs that I usually write AkuZeku to ("What Have You Done" by Within Temptation, "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace, and so on) work for AkuZeku in this story because there isn't a romantic component. There's a bit of a sexual one, at least at the beginning, but most of their dynamic is pure hatred and mutual rivalry and, at the very end, a little bit of understanding.

I feel that the song that closest encompasses the AkuZeku relationship in this story is "Just Like You," at least from Zexion's perspective. Because when it comes down to it, Axel and Zexion _are _very similar: they're passionate people, who love passionately, and feel separated from the rest of society (possibly by their immortality). Even early in the story, I touch on the theme of their similarities - witness the "man or monster" discussion/argument in chapter six. But Zexion's adamant that he won't end up as weak as Axel, as much of a failure, which is reflected in "Just Like You."

_On my own  
__'Cause I can't take living with you  
__I'm alone  
__So I won't turn out like you want me to_

* * *

This doesn't really count as a "soundtrack" song, so I won't fit it in here...but in the final chapter, after the last scene (in which Axel discovers the poem on Demyx's gravestone), I imagine the orchestral version of "Hikari" playing and then we roll into credits...well, not credits, exactly. But that song I don't see as fitting the story exactly, just that last scene, possibly due to the ending of _Kingdom Hearts II. _It is an awesome song, capturing perfectly the emotion of Utada Hikaru's song without any words. And it feels a tad more melancholy than Utada's version, too, which definitely fits _Tainted But Beautiful._

* * *

And finally, when I reread chapter 30 for the first time, I was listening to "All I Ask Of You" from _Phantom of the Opera_, and...oh dear. I didn't cry while writing it, but I cried then. Mostly because of how sadly ironic the song is - _Anywhere you go let me go too/That's all I ask of you. _Which is, frankly, impossible for Zexion and Demyx. So yeah if you want to experience waterworks too, try that song and chapter combination.

* * *

Yeah, I'm pretty sure my biases were more than apparent. What's that, four Muse songs and two Bravery songs? What the hell, when I _really _like a band, I listen to as much of their music as I can.

I think it's ironic, in a stupid way, that there's so much Muse here because Smeyer (sorry, swore I wouldn't mention _Twilight _again...) claims that Muse is one of her favorite bands and a big inspiration for her saccharine vampirefest, which is nonsense because anything that's inspired by Muse _has _to be a sci fi epic with a darkly disturbed romance at the center and conspiracies galore. Which...isn't really _Tainted, _actually. But screw that. At least I have the darkly disturbed romance part (and it's _consciously _dark, not like Bedward, which just is Unfortunate Implications that Smeyer never thought through).

No more updates in the future. This story is truly done, and I won't go back to it unless I decide to follow through on my urge to edit the earlier chapter. At several different points I had several different sequel plans - the most viable ones would have been either a Reno/Yazoo story (with AkuZeku undertones) that would have taken place five years after the epilogue timeline, or an alternate universe story in which Demyx is a soldier and Zexion an alien from a species that the humans are at war with. Neither will probably get written, unless there's significant interest in one or the other. But as I've said innumerable times, original fiction and my fictionpress, name of **Bickazer**, hold much more interest in me as of this moment. In fac, I won't write much fanfiction from the future.

I really badly want people to read **Broken Memory, **a to-be-more-than-100-chapter serial about interdimensional travel and a lot of mindfuckery, with a tragic (het, I warn you) relationship at its heart. Failing that, you might like **Prelude to Broken Memory**, a 12-chapter prequel setting up the protagonist's history - there's more slash content and romance in general in that story, and it's more character driven. Failing even that, kindly take a look **The Books of Corinth**, a sci fi story that's overtly slash with some family drama thrown in, and sentient dolls, and mindfuckery. Whatever appeals to you. Just check out my fictionpress and leave a few reviews, yah?

Thank you all. At the risk of sounding cliched, don't think of this as an end but a beginning. This story may be over, my fanfic career might be by all means over, but if you'd like to keep following me then who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy this new venue. ^^ I know I do.


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